Evil Never Dies
by Nefmacilwen
Summary: UPDATED! Voldemort has been destroyed but he left something behind, and it rather he wants Hermione to be his Queen. Why? Because only she is powerful enough to destroy him, or join him. Set after Hogwarts.
1. Default Chapter

_**EVIL NEVER DIES.**_

_Prologue._

It was the moment they were all dreading since their first year at Hogwarts – especially Harry Potter. His best friend, Ron Wesley lay unconscious at his feet; face down in the dust and rocks. Ron's clothes were ripped allover with numerous blood stains. Three long scratches ran down the side of his face and shoulders and disappeared down his back. Blood dripped from an open wound on his leg.

Hermione Granger fell to her knees and desperately shook Ron's shoulders. She too looked worse for wear. Her navy blue sweater was torn around her midriff exposing a bruised stomach. She had a cut on her forehead where a piece of rock had hit her, and she was leaning heavily on her left foot.

"Wake up Ron!" she yelled in his ear but he did not budge. Tears brimmed in her eyes. She shook his shoulders until finally pleading with Harry. "Harry, Harry, help me with Ron before -"

She stopped abruptly when she looked up into her best friend's pale face. He held up his wand with a trembling hand but stepped determinedly in front of her and Ron.

Hermione's gaze followed his. She gasped in horror.

Lord Voldemort had followed them before they could escape the Chamber of Secrets. He slithered quickly across the wrecked stone walled room, his powerful body gliding perfectly and squared off against Harry. His forked tongue flicked out.

"Fear," his hiss rippled with pleasure, "the taste of sweet fear."

Hermione froze at the demonic, snake-like eyes. Harry, however, pointed his wand at Voldemort's neck and growled, "This is between you and me."

Hermione whimpered but pressed her hands on Ron's shoulders as though protecting him. Her eyes darted to Harry.

Voldemort hissed again but it sounded like an evil chuckle to Harry. His reared his huge head and tasted the air again.

"This _is_ between you and me Potter, but I will not deny myself the pleasure of torturing your friends and savoring the sweet melody of their screams and delectable pain."

Harry's emerald eyes narrowed in anger and hatred. All his fear drained away.

"Ah." Voldemort sounded pleased. "I see the snake rises in you too."

The Dark Lord moved his red eyes to Hermione who gasped and recoiled in fear. His eyes lingered at her exposed stomach and crept up her flushed face. Harry stepped to his left and blocked Voldemort's view.

"How about I start with the Mudblood?"

"If you touch her, I'll kill you."

"Oh I plan to do more than touch your beloved Mudblood whore." Voldemort taunted him, "Such a sweet, pretty little thing. It's no wonder Weasley wants to ravage her until she can't stand." Saliva dripped from his fangs and ran down his chin.

Hermione whimpered and clung to Ron.

Harry gripped his wand tightly.

"It's been a while since I've been with a Mudblood, but I'm willing to bet she'll taste as good as the real thing. What do you think, Potter?"

There was an odd ringing sound in Harry's ear.

"I always wondered why you let that blood-traitor claim her," he sneered at Ron, "I'm sure she won't mind pleasing her two best friends. How many times have you imagined fucking that slut senseless-."

"SHUT UP!" Harry screamed, "don't talk about her like that, you sick, twisted…

"_CRUCIO_!"

The spell took Voldemort by surprise and knocked him over but he recovered quickly.

"That was a stupid thing to do Potter," Voldemort hissed, "a _very_ stupid thing to do." He raised his wand to Harry's chest.

Harry's mind raced through the many spells he learnt but none were powerful enough to make Voldemort back down. His jersey clung to his wet clammy skin. He silently prayed that Hermione had enough sense to escape with Ron and get help.

He braced for the impact.

"NO!"

Before either Harry or Voldemort could move, Hermione planted herself between Harry and Voldemort's wand. One of her hands grabbed Harry's jersey while the other held her wand to the menacing figure.

"Kill me instead," Hermione said with a bravery she never knew existed. He looked surprise for a second and then replied, "There's no instead, little girl; only first and second."

"Well then kill me first," she insisted. Then she did something that surprised herself and made Harry's heart stop: she grabbed Voldemort's hand and directed his wand to her chest so that the tip of his wand was pressed against her heart.

Harry felt as though someone poured ice-cold water on his head.

He tried pushing her away, but she held her stance. She shook her head, never taking her eyes off the towering evil in front of her. Hermione felt Harry's hand on her waist, pulling her closer to him and away from Voldemort.

"Get out of the way," ordered Voldemort but Hermione stood her ground. "You dare defy me?"

Hermione raised her chin. "Yes, I dare defy you."

Harry moaned softly in her ear.

"I'm not leaving you," she whispered as Voldemort stared at her in fury.

"Hermione this is not the time to argue. I have to kill him," Harry shot back but she tightened her grip on his jersey. He tried to pry open her fingers but she kept pushing him back.

_If she dies, I'll never forgive myself. Ron will never forgive me, he'll kill me, _Harry thought.

Voldemort paused and gazed at Hermione's determined yet expressionless face as she silently fought to maintain her hold on Harry. He stared into her eyes as though trying to read her mind. She stared right back, even though her legs wanted to collapse from fear.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Hermione fiercely, "don't you want to taste a Mudblood again?"

Harry gasped at her taunting. _What the hell is she trying to do? Hack him off so he'll kill her faster?_

The Dark Lord suddenly laughed. "You think you're so clever, don't you? You think that if you sacrifice yourself for Potter and that other one on the ground they'll be saved because I won't be able to touch them. It might work for the red-head, provided you know what you're doing, but not Potter. His blood runs in my veins."

He narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "It's no use, Mudblood. I win, either way."

Hermione bit her bottom lip thoughtfully and said, "I'm willing to take the risk."

"Foolish, that Gryffindor courage," Voldemort hissed angrily, "Where will it get you? Death, pain and suffering. The love between you two is pathetic. Both willing to die for each other. Just like your parents Potter, blinded by love and loyalty. They always thought love could conquer everything."

Voldemort raised his wand again. Harry tried to get past her but could not. He was surprised at her strength.

"Please Hermione. Take Ron and go," he whispered but she was not listening.

Since Voldemort started talking, Hermione forced her eyes shut and her mind empty. She had one chance to use the spell she learnt before Voldemort realized what she was doing.

She hoped to Merlin it was enough to work.

She knew the risks, she knew she could die if she miscalculated, but she was willing to do anything to save Harry and Ron. Even if it meant her life; and her life, she realized suddenly, were her two best friends. Hermione loved them more than she could ever put in words, and she would conquer heaven and hell to see them happy.

Hermione began chanting the Latin verses in her head over and over again. Within seconds she felt weightless and free. She saw the words clearly in her mind's eye. Hermione focused on them, the lettering, even the thin paper the spell was written on, and its meaning.

The spell might not work to its full potential given the circumstances but it was the only way to defeat the evil. Even the added protection charms and potions might not help but her friends needed her. She would see to it they survive even if she did not.

Hermione held back a sob when Ron's blue eyes and freckled face floated in her mind. _I _

_love you so much Ronald Weasley. _

_I love you both. Please forgive me._

Hermione chanted louder and louder in her mind until the words escaped her lips and her voice carried them into a whisper.

Harry felt her go rigid. He glanced fearfully at her and saw her eyes were closed and her lips were moving. She seemed to be in a trance.

Voldemort eyed Hermione wearily. "What is she doing?"

A bluish glow began forming around her and encircled her entire body. It pulsated slightly, growing even wider until it enclosed Harry and Ron as well.

The Dark Lord froze. "It's not possible."

His snake-like eyes darted around like a mouse trapped in a cat's den. He aimed a curse at Hermione and to his horror, and Harry's surprised relief, the red light rebounded smoothly off the blue shield.

"HOW CAN THIS BE?" Voldemort screamed, raining hexes on them. Harry felt like sticking out his tongue at Voldemort. They were going to survive! As long a Hermione continued doing whatever she saw doing, they would be safe.

At this thought Harry glanced at her. His spirits dropped slightly. The spell was using a lot of her energy. He saw sweat trickling down her neck and forehead as her face grimaced in pain.

To his horror and amazement, Hermione levitated twelve inches above the ground. Her wand fell to the floor just as another explosion sounded. White tendrils of energy began forming on the circumference of the blue shield crackling like electricity.

All eyes were transfixed on Hermione. Her head shot straight back and her arms flew open as the tendrils flowed into her body. She jerked and trembled violently. Even her brown curly hair pulsed with the white energy.

Harry was rooted to the spot. Part of him wanted to pull Hermione safely into his arms, grab Ron and run as fast as possible. The other part figured it was a good sign if the Dark Lord seemed threatened by the spell.

The white energy continued to flow into Hermione until the blue shield flickered twice and disappeared. Harry panicked. They were vulnerable to an attack.

Hermione's feet touched the ground, her arms dropped to her sides and she opened her eyes to glare at Voldemort. He suddenly went ramrod straight as though she had just cast a Body Bind Curse on him.

Harry inhaled sharply as Voldemort moaned. White tendrils ran across her brown eyes for a few seconds until they disappeared.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Harry. I'm fine," she replied in a loud strong voice.

"How did you accomplish it," a hoarse pitiful voice asked, "you – you're just a – a -."

"A Mudblood," Hermione finished coolly, "well, let me show you what a filthy little Mudblood can do!"

She grabbed Harry's hand and began chanting the same words again. Harry felt a surge of electricity flow into him and all around dissolved into blackness. He was no longer afraid or angry. A strong wave of emotion entered his chest making his heart race.

Hermione's voice filled his head with the Latin words. He began reciting them out loud. Harry looked at her and their eyes met. A feeling of raw power flowed into their blood. It was as though the spell had tapped into a power source he never knew he had.

Hermione felt it too as it course through her body like a drug. Harry interlocked his fingers with hers. She saw the white magical tendrils in Harry's eyes.

The spell was working. It was now or never.

_Four hours later._

Silence.

No one moved. Everyone was focused on the exhausted elderly Healer standing in the doorway. His eyes betrayed his thoughts. They held sadness, pity and regret. He looked at the somber faces and his gaze locked on a man and woman. The woman had hair like the girl. She looked like the girl. He sighed.

Then his eyes caught the famous Harry Potter. How on earth was he going to tell him? Tell them? He sighed again and spoke the two dreaded words.

"I'm sorry."

Harry Potter paled. His eyes glistened with tears. The woman collapsed on the floor in hysterics. The man held her but he had a distant look in his eyes. The red-haired family, the Weasleys, wept openly. The red-haired girl clung to her eldest brother who looked just as stricken. The twins stood on either side of their mother as she sobbed loudly on her husband's shoulder.

One of the twins looked around at Harry Potter but his face was buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Then, just as sudden, his head snapped up. He stood and walked quickly from the room with tears streaming down his face.

"Harry!" someone called, "Harry, where are you off to?"

He stopped long enough for everyone to make out his whisper. "Ron."

"GET OFF BILL! I HAVE TO SEE HER! SHE'S NOT DEAD! SHE'S JUST ASLEEP! HERMIONE!"

"Ron, please listen to me! Stop fighting and listen. She's –she's not going to wake up. The Healers said part of her brain isn't working properly."

"It's Hermione. Her brain always works more than properly. Leave me alone. I'll wake her up myself."

"No, you can't -."

"Get off Bill!"

"Shit Ron! Fred! George! Help me with Ron! The bastard punched me!"

"Hermione!"

"Ron! You can't see her. Stop, Ron!"

"Harry? Harry! Thank God! Bill is off his rocker. He says Hermione isn't going to wake up because her brain isn't working. Hermione's brain always works-."

"Ron."

"How could he think that? This is Hermione we're talking about-."

"Ron!"

"And to think I was worried. I'm going to wait for her to wake up. She won't be asleep for long-."

"RON!"

Silence.

"Ron, she'll never wake up."

Silence.

"It was the spell she used. It was Ancient Magic. She- she knew she might not s-survive, b-but she did it any- anyway. She s- sac… she sacrificed herself t-to save u-us."

Silence.

"Hermione's g-gone. She's not coming back. Fuck, she's gone. She's…"

Silence.

Ron Weasley stared at his best friend as he cried. Reality hit him like a ton of bricks. His best friend, the love of his life, his soul mate…dead. He did not believe it when his brother told him. He did not want to believe it, but Harry standing before him, looking exposed and vulnerable as though his best friend had died.

And his best friend did die.

Ron refused to accept living without Hermione. As far as he was concerned, the world was split in two: one with Hermione, and the other without. He belonged in the world with Hermione because the world without her would be Hell. Pure Hell.

So he ran. Ron ran to the emergency room where his love was wasting away.

Harry Potter finally crumbled. He slid to the floor letting all the tears he held back over the years fall. They fell for his parents, his godfather, his mentor and Headmaster, all the people who fought bravely in the war, and his best friend.

"HERMIONE! WAKE UP! PLEASE! IT'S ME RON!"

Harry sobbed uncontrollably. His cries echoed through the corridor, mixing with Ron's desperate pleading.

"I PROMISE I WON'T YELL AT YOU. I SWEAR I'LL MAKE YOU HAPPY! YOU'LL NEVER CRY AGAIN, I PROMISE YOU, JUST PLEASE COME BACK TO ME!"

Harry drove his fist into the tiled floor over and over again until his fingers became numb and broken and blood leaked from them forming a puddle on the floor.

_You don't deserve to die Hermione. I was supposed to die. Me. You and Ron were supposed to get married and have a bunch of kids. I'm supposed to be lying in a grave._

Hermione Granger, heart and soul of the Famous Trio, was gone.


	2. Discovery

_**EVIL NEVER DIES.**_

**_Chapter One: Discovery._**

_Flashback_

_The spell was working. It was now or never._

_Hermione focused on the evil wretch that tormented Harry's life for sixteen years. She knew his suffering, the searing pain from his scar, the mental anguish and uncertainty of his future, even the loss of his godfather. She shared every heart wrenching moment in his life. His pain became her pain; his happiness was hers as well. Fortunately, it was enough for the spell to work._

_Hermione knew she would enjoy watching Voldemort disintegrate into dust._

_She outstretched her right hand towards the Dark Lord who stood motionless as though his legs were lead. Tendrils of white magic crackled and jumped from the tips of her fingers to the palm of her hand forming a web-like pattern. Next to her, Harry raised his wand._

"_Go to hell, you fucking bastard!" Hermione screamed._

_Together, the white magical energy shot out from her fingers and his wand and slammed into Voldemort._

_Anguished screams echoed throughout the hollow stone-walled room as Voldemort's insides burned. His skeletal fingers gauged into his skin. Hermione desperately fought not to gag when the scent of charred flesh filled the room._

_Then the unexpected happened. Green light from Voldemort shot into Hermione and Harry. Surprised, they both tried to maintain their balance but somehow Hermione lost her footing and fell backwards into Harry who landed on his knees, holding her._

_Voldemort's screams stopped abruptly because his forked tongue was in orange-red flames. The fire had burned its way up his face._

_Harry inhaled sharply when the green light left him entered Hermione's chest. Her tortured screams made him bite his tongue in fear. He held her as she writhed on the ground. Tears mixed with the blood pouring out from her ears, nose, and eyes. _

_His fingers trembled as he brushed the brown curls away from her face. Just as it started, the green light stopped and disappeared from sight. Harry tore his eyes away from his best friend and searched for his nemesis. _

_Voldemort was gone; the only remnant left of him was the dust. _

_Hermione stilled in his arms. He was incapable of moving or thinking as he stared at her lifeless body. Her face was ghostly pale with blue veins protruding from her neck, arms and forehead. Suddenly, it seemed as though he was back in the Department of Mysteries._

"_Don't be dead. Don't be dead," Harry pleaded_. _He felt a faint pulse against her deathly cold skin._

_Suddenly, the room began spinning like a top. Harry closed his eyes and reached for Ron's ankle and grabbed it while keeping his other arm tightly around Hermione. The wind whistled loudly in his ears. He felt blood dripping from his nose._

_In a flash of light, they disappeared just as the room exploded. Chunks of rocks fell from the ceiling, destroying anything they landed on. The blast was so powerful, that it shook Hogwarts Castle and tested its strength. Another flash of light and the Chamber of Secrets was no more._

_Fifteen months later_

18 year old Ron Weasley hated the way the moonlight affected the already haunted landscape as it formed eerie shadows on the ground. He hated the fog that drifted across the sloping land and wrapped itself around the tombstones and crypts. He hated the short, damp grass and the smell of rich, brown earth. He hated the feeling he got as soon as he stepped foot on the grounds. He hated the dull ache that grew in his heart with each step. He hated the loneliness and the craving for love.

He thought as the days went by, the pain would bury itself somewhere, but he was wrong. It was as fresh as ever.

Everyday, he came to this dreadful place; in the mornings before he went about his sad excuse for a life, and in the nights before he drowned himself in Firewhiskey and fantasies. He hated this place.

He wanted the torture to end. He wanted the pain and guilt to go away. But he could not stop. He was like a fucking junkie that desperately needed his fix.

She was his drug.

He pushed his hands into his pockets to prevent the cold from settling in when he cursed quietly and quickly removed them. In the faint moonlight he saw the ragged chunks of raw flesh on his swollen knuckles. A few looked moist. He grimaced. He had forgotten about those. In his drunken fits, he'd curse the fates for ruining his life and take his anger and frustrations out on the nearest walls. They were stained with blood by the time his knees buckled and fall face first on the stone-cold ground.

God, how he missed her! Shit, he would give his last breath, even his soul, to see her smile at him. He would willing go over to the Dark Side to feel her hair between his fingers one last time. He tried moving on, but on some mornings he would find himself in a strange room with a strange woman lying naked next to him. All the women would have brown frizzy hair and brown eyes.

His footsteps echoed along the concrete walkway that snaked between the headstones. Her parents buried her in a private section of the cemetery, next to her grandparents. It was a fairly long walk from the entrance but he did not mind. He had nothing else to do.

Sometimes he found himself sitting on her grave for hours and talking to her headstone as though it was listening intently to his daily activities. He knew it was pathetic but he did not give a damn. It gave him comfort to know that somehow he included her in his life.

He was fucking hopeless. He had to stop doing this to himself.

As he neared the site an icy breeze ruffled his unkempt hair and danced with his black traveling cloak. He shivered but welcomed the discomfort.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge. He stopped abruptly and pulled out his wand. "_Lumos_," he muttered and swept his cold blue eyes along the path. Shadows appeared and disappeared as the narrow beam of light illuminated darkened corners and tombstones.

A strong magical presence washed over him as a sickening feeling burst in his stomach. Something was terribly wrong. He jogged the rest of the way to her grave with his wand in front of him. The feeling grew overwhelming. At one point he stopped and retched.

_What the bloody hell is going on?_ He thought as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The moon crept behind a cloud and plunged the graveyard in darkness. He straightened up, with his wand inches from his face. The wind played with his cloak again.

That was when he heard whimpering. He cocked his head and listened intently. Yes! There it was again. Confident it was not the wind whistling in his ears he walked quickly but cautiously to the sound.

No sooner had he reached several feet from a particularly enormous, well designed crypt, a nearby headstone exploded. He yelled and fell to the ground as a piece of stone hit his knee. Breathing heavily, he looked at the dust settling on the grass and winced as he moved his foot.

"Fucking wanker just attacked me," he muttered angrily.

The whimpering started again. He frowned because he did not know what to make of it. Either someone was trying to lure him into a false sense of security or someone needed his help. He took a deep breath and crouched into what he hoped was an attack position.

"Hello! Do you need help?"

_Nice one Weasley!_

The whimpering stopped but there was no answer.

He tried again. "Listen, are you hurt or anything? Is someone there hurting you?"

Silence. Then a hoarse voice said, "Go away."

His heart skipped a beat. He cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"

"I said go away!"

He stood up and took a few steps forwards. Another headstone exploded.

"If you come near me, I'll hurt you!" the voice threatened clearly. It sounded feminine.

"Okay, okay," he raised his hands in surrender. "I'm backing away, but I'm not going far.

I just want to make sure you're not hurt. See, I'm far away but you can still hear me. What's your name?"

"I-I can't remember," she said sounding scared.

"Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so."

He paused. "Can you remember anything? How you got here? Do you want me to get anyone?"

"Y-Yes. There's someone I remember, but – but I don't know…"

He waited patiently for her to continue.

"Ron Weasley."

Time stopped. The uneasy feeling started again. _Be calm. She doesn't know who you are, yet. Why would a lost girl in a cemetery remember me, but not her own name?_

"He's my friend."

His heart clenched and his vision blurred from tears. _Stop it Weasley. That does not mean it's her. Get a grip on yourself for fuck's sake._

"Do you know him? We went to school together. He saved me from a troll."

The words echoed in his head. Somehow, he was on ground crying into his hands. The tears stung his bruised knuckles.

_Stop it! Stop it! It's not her! She's gone, remember. You're hearing things. Don't do this to yourself. There's no way it's her. But what if she… STOP IT! You saw her in the casket. You saw how beautiful she looked in her white dress. You saw them close it, you saw them bury her. This isn't one of your sick fantasies Weasley!_

Fingers touched his hands and his hair. Cold, familiar fingers. Someone breathed heavily against his cheek.

_Don't look up. It's an illusion. It's all in your head. It's not her._

He dragged his eyes up. She looked the same except her hair was past her shoulders and her face seemed mature and refined, but still beautiful. Her eyes, however, remained the same shade of brown he loved.

He always imagined that she would come back to him and they would share their lives together. He always thought he would be happy and that they would laugh and hug each other tightly and then she would ask him how he did in N.E.W.T.S and why he did not have a job.

Now she knelt before him in the same white dress but this time, it was smudged with dirt, her wild hair blowing in the wind and tears streaming down her face mixing with dirt and grass.

She smiled at him.

_Oh God! She smiled! This is real. She's real. _

With a trembling hand he touched her chin. He almost died when she closed her eyes and sighed.

"Hermione?"

She nodded. "Oh Ron!" she exclaimed and collapsed in his arms.

_The Vatican (Muggle world)_

Father Megrezii sat behind his desk in his office hunched over flimsy pieces of old yellow paper. He pushed his glasses up his straight nose and squinted at the strange writing before him. His straight jet-black hair fell flat on his twenty-seven year old head; it did not stand straight and proud like his father's. He was tall and thin and often walked with a slight limp and his head almost bent between his shoulders.

He muttered under his breath and scribbled a few words. On his desk were piles of dirty paper similar to the one he worked on, pencils of different colors and lengths and his trusty computers working tirelessly as he was. It was about one in the morning and he was swamped with work.

Some days ago in Jerusalem, archeologists stumbled on the dusty, decayed remains of a church they estimated existed during the days of Christ. Many of the church's documents were recovered and underwent the usual scientific testing to prove their authenticity. Since they were found on lands owned by the Roman Catholic Church, every document was sent to the Vatican for translation.

That is where Father Megrezii came in. He was responsible for translating the weathered documents and scrolls with zero to minimum damage to the artifacts themselves. Obviously he had to learn the usual Spanish, French and Latin but also study Old English, Old French, the different forms of Hebrew and Arabic and the language of Christ.

With a vast knowledge in computers, he decided to write a translation program incorporating all the languages in the world and the forgotten ones. It proved to be a harder task than learning each language and was certainly a lot longer and time consuming, not to mention brain wrecking. When he finally finished, the program worked better than expected and it became a huge success.

On a normal day he would have two computers in his lush office. Since the discovery of the ancient church his workload increased tremendously. He asked for two additional computers and got four. He was more than thankful to his superior.

The computers scanned the stronger documents, translated them and then printed both the original version and the converted version for filing purposes. Father Megrezii could leave and return in the morning to a stack of papers with the previous day's work and begin filing. However, he left most of the filing for his assistants and page boys.

Some documents, however, had to be translated manually either because the paper was literally crumbling to dust when touched or it was badly preserved or the writing was so faded the scanner could not read the symbols. Father Megrezii was currently working on a program that could fill in words or symbols or sentences that were missing. For now though, he had to do it by hand.

That was what he was doing when a high pitched scream startled him out of deep concentration. His fair face flushed pink when he realized the horrible screeching sound was the phone. He swept his dark brown eyes around his writing desk and cautiously moved aside papers in search of the dreaded noise. On the fourth ring he answered.

"Hello. Father Megrezii speaking." His voice was slightly hoarse from the dust in his office.

"Father, it's been a while. How have you been?" asked a familiar voice in an American accent.

He smiled faintly. "Working hard Father Ricardo, thanks to you."

Father Richard Ricardo was responsible for all the work he had to do since he was the only priest around when the church was discovered in the dig. They were also good friends. It was usually quite difficult for Father Megrezii to share his ideas and dreams with his colleagues in the Vatican since they were at least twenty years older, and did not tend to see eye to eye with the young, 21st century blood in his veins.

He found it refreshing whenever Father Ricardo visited Rome. Even though he was ten years older, it made him the second youngest person in the Vatican, someone Father Megrezii could easily talk to about his plans for the future and advice he needed for the paths he chose. However, Father Ricardo was stationed in America so Father Megrezii spoke to him only a few times for the year.

Father Ricardo laughed and said, "I knew you would be awake at this ungodly hour, knowing a new shipment is arriving tomorrow, or shall I say today."

Father Megrezii laughed and rubbed his tired eyes. "And I have you to thank for my lack of sleep and high blood pressure. I'll fax you my health bills, that way we'll be even."

He decided to call it for the night after he got off the phone. He needed his strength and sane mind in the morning.

"When are you leaving Richard?"

"A week from today. I figured by then all the stuff here should be out and I'll be free to get back home. Bad luck I was around when they found the church."

"It's great for your record Richard, so I'll say it's good luck. Right place at the right time, you know."

"John, John, you know I don't believe in coincidences," he chuckled, "Everything happens for a reason."

"Spoken like a true priest." They both laughed.

"It's crazy out here," Father Ricardo admitted, "and to think this country is supposed to be the birth place of Christ. It's becoming just as bad as Iraq. Listen Jon, how's the stigmata case brewing?"

Father Megrezii frowned at the sudden seriousness and implication of Father Ricardo's voice. The question was a code they devised between themselves after Father Megrezii found out that each phone in the building was bugged and a recording of all phone calls were made, reviewed and filed away. He shifted the phone to the other ear and stood up and stretched. The question meant if he was alone and if he was sure that the line was secure.

"Don't worry. I hacked into their database and changed a few things in my name. A few weeks ago, they stopped recording my phone calls after seven in the evening. What's wrong?"

"Well I waited until I thought everyone left to call you. There's a particular scroll I want you to translate right now. I don't know very much about languages but I do know a bit and if my translations are fairly right, then this might be it. I'll fax you all the experimental results but I must tell you that the Carbon dating on this scroll is… well, it's extraordinary."

Father Megrezii walked around the office to stretch his legs while listening. He waited patiently for him to finish. He knew Father Ricardo was not the kind to exaggerate.

"This well preserved scroll is about two thousand years old. It's in almost perfect condition except for a few stains and obvious degradation. This is the only oldest document found at the site. I think this is what we've been looking for all along."

Father Megrezii pulse quickened and his breathing grew raspy, sure signs of anxiousness.

"Are you serious?" he asked into the phone, "I assume you scanned it already. Fax it to me, with the results."

Few seconds later he held the papers containing the letters and symbols from the scroll. Immediately he scanned it into the hard drive of the nearest computer and started the translation program. Meanwhile, he studied the results.

"How long will it take?" Father Ricardo asked on the other end.

"Um, it depends." Father Megrezii glanced at the computer and saw a sentence was already translated. "Apparently it's a mixture of Christ's language, a form of old Hebrew and Latin I believe… and another type of language I have never seen. It would be a long while, my friend. Strange. Why would someone go through all the trouble of writing something no one will be able to read, because if I had to translate this, it would not make complete sense?"

"Someone did not want the wrong people to read it, if it is what we think it is, of course. It could be in code," Father Ricardo said.

"That's an interesting thought. Where did you find this again?"

"On site. Apparently it was in a secured room by itself. The researchers would have missed it if I didn't draw it to their attention."

"They should thank you for your sharp sight."

The computer beeped. Father Megrezii whirled around dumbfounded.

"What it is John?" Father Ricardo asked.

"The translation's complete. It took less that a minute. But how is that possible? It would have taken fifteen minutes to half an hour to translate a complicated piece like this."

"Be thankful for small favors John."

Small favours… it was close to a miracle. Sill in awe Father Megrezii moved closer to the computer. The screen was split in half: one half contained the original writing; the other had the converted piece. He skimmed through the entire document quickly but it was enough to make his heart race.

This was it. This was what they have been searching for all these years. His hands shook with anticipation.

"Richard," he whispered into the phone, "how soon can you be here?"

"Give me three hours John," he replied and hung up.

Father Megrezii stared into space with the phone still in his hand. He realized, in that infinitesimal second he took to replace the phone to its base, he held the future of the world in his hands.

He understood that he had scientific proof of theories and imaginations scientists, mathematicians, and he himself argued and fought over. He knew if this were released to the public, _everything_ would change. Wars and diseases and famine would be eradicated. He also knew if it fell into the wrong hands, the universe would cease to exist; everything and everyone would be destroyed from sight and mind.

All this power was in a piece of paper lying innocently in his hands, behind the walls of the Vatican, away from prying eyes and prying minds.


	3. Love Once Lost

_**EVIL NEVER DIES.**_

**_Chapter Two: Love Once Lost._**

"How long has she been like this?" Ginny Weasley asked her brother, Ron, after regaining her senses when she saw Hermione lying on his bed. She had stared in disbelief at the girl who was both a friend and sister to her. Millions of questions raced through her head, each of them wanting to escape her mouth first, but all she could do was drop her jaw and stare.

Her Healer instinct kicked in when she saw bruises on Hermione's hands. She crossed the room quickly and began examining her. Ginny could not help but notice that Hermione wore the same dress she was buried in: a simple, white cotton dress which was now cream colored with dirt smudges. Her hair was now longer and soft with curls that spread across the pillow.

An uneasy feeling rose in Ginny. Hermione did not look as though she had died. It looked as though she simply left for a period of time and came back.

_Snap out of it. Focus on the job. You'll get your answers later._

"Ron," she called sharply, "how long has she been unconscious?"

She looked at her brother, who was perched next to Hermione, and instantly regretted her tone. His pale, haggard face creased with worry and fear while he held on to every breath Hermione took. Both of his hands held hers. Ginny noticed that he kept his index finger on the pulse point of her wrist. His eyes never left her face.

It broke her heart to see him this way. She reached out to him but he stopped her. "Ginny, take care of her. I'm fine."

She closed her eyes briefly to summon her courage and then focus on the matter at hand. She waved her wand around and jets of lights issued from her wand and engulfed Hermione in a multitude of colors. She muttered various Healing and Cleansing spells until she was satisfied that Hermione was in good health.

"There's nothing wrong with her," she told her brother softly while smoothing out the sheets on the bed, "she just has to wake up."

Ron nodded. He stroked Hermione's cheek lovingly.

"There's nothing else I can do. She has to go to St. Mungo's."

At these words Ron's eyes flashed dangerously. "She's not going anywhere."

Ginny argued gently. "She has to go. The Healers will help her. I'm just a Trainee, Ron."

He continued gazing at his love as though he did not hear her.

"Come on, help me get her there."

"Do not touch her."

His words were cold and sharp.

Ginny stepped back at the impact of his voice. A cold chill slithered down her spine when Ron glared at her threateningly. He pulled out his wand and rested it next to him.

"R-Ron," she said weakly, unsure whether to approach him or not.

He looked regretfully at her. "Please Ginny. Don't make me hex you. Hermione is not going back to that place."

She tried again. "She has to-."

"Don't you get it Ginny?" he shouted, "they tried to kill her! Some Healers tried to kill her and buried her alive. They were in league with You-Know-Who, and when they heard he was destroyed, they took revenge. Only they couldn't get to anyone of us. They couldn't get to Harry or me or even to you! Hermione was only unconscious. She was never dead."

He stood up. His six feet frame was impressive, especially when he was in a rage. "She was never dead. I knew it in my heart she wasn't but I listened to everyone else. I gave up on her just as easily as you did, just as Harry did. And you know what? Hermione would have never given up on anyone of us like that. She would have fought everything and everyone in the world if she felt one of us was still alive."

Ron started crying. "But I didn't. I left her there to rot in a fucking grave! I let them bury her in the blasted ground!"

His screams came out in anguished sobs. "I FAILED HER AGAIN. I SWORE I'D LOOK OUT FOR HER AFTER FIFTH YEAR BUT I FAILED HER! IN A FUCKING GRAVE GINNY, THOSE BASTARDS WANTED HER TO SUFFER AND DIE IN A FUCKING GRAVE AND IT'S MY ENTIRE FUCKING FAULT! I DON'T CARE IF YOU GET ALL THE LAW-ENFORCEMENT SQUAD TO HEX ME, I'M NOT LEAVING HER SIDE!"

He fell to his knees and crawled towards his sister who stood weeping. Tears trickled through her fingers that covered her face. She wanted to yell that it was not his fault Hermione got hurt or Harry left. She tried to tell him to stop blaming himself for things he could not control but her voice got lost in her throat. All she could do was cry. She did that a lot lately.

Ron wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist and rested his head against her stomach. She gave a muffled gasp when she felt his tears soak through her dressing gown.

She lowered her hands to his hair and tried to soothe him. He needed comfort more than she did.

"Ginny, please don't take her away from me," he begged hoarsely. "I'll die if I lose her again. I don't want her to go. I'll do anything to keep her safe here, you know that. Please don't let them take her away."

She never thought she would see her brother in this vulnerable state. Her heart went out to him. She continued massaging his head.

"I won't Ron, I promise. But Ron, listen to me." Ginny bent down until she was eye level with him. "She might have internal damage. She needs a Healer. I'll have Healer Richardson come over here, so that way you'll be able to look after her. Okay? Ron?"

He shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

"We have to tell her parents."

"No." this time his voice was stronger.

"Ron-," she began warily, but he cut her off.

"They'll take her away Ginny. Not from here, but from the Wizarding world. They'll force her to live like a Muggle because of what happened. They'll think it's dangerous. They won't understand."

"They are her parents and they have a right to know. But, even if we don't tell them right now, we still have to mention it to someone. I mean, you can't hide her forever."

_I can try_. Ron sighed and sat down on the floor. He played with his hands. _Ginny's right. We have to tell someone._

"Dad. Get Dad. Make sure mom doesn't find out. I'm really not in the mood for her fussing and crying."

Ginny nodded slowly. "Okay. I'll go get some potions from my bag and then I'll go get dad. We'll be back in ten minutes, maybe less."

Ron glanced sadly towards his bed. "I'm not going anywhere."

Ginny knew she was not in a frame of mind to Apparate, so she Flooed to the flat she sometimes shared with Terry. As the green flames swirled around her (always reminding her of a pair of beautiful emerald eyes), and died, she stepped out of the fireplace.

Terry, dressed for bed, looked up from the book he was reading on the couch and asked, "Is Ron okay?"

She took a deep breath to control her mixed emotions. "He's fine."

He eyed her curiously as she walked towards her Healing Kit and extracted various potions.

"Okay. Is there something you're not telling me; or something you can't tell me?"

_Stop asking me questions. I can't hold back any longer. No! Don't come over here! SIT DOWN! Read your damn book. _

Her hand shook slightly.

"Ginny, what's wrong baby?"

She bit her lip. _Why are you so caring and loving? Ignore me for once. Be inconsiderate. Please don't make me tell you. I promised Ron I'll keep his secret_.

She kept quiet even though her resolve began crumbling.

"Okay, I understand if you can't say anything. Do you need help carrying the potions? Do you want me to put up the cauldron or mix anything?"

_Damn you Terry! Damn you! Stop being like…like…my boyfriend._

_He is your boyfriend, remember? That's why he looks after you._

His fingertips brushed her neck. With a loud sob she turned and fell into his strong, loving arms. He stroked her back as she told him everything that happened. Just as she expected, his fingers froze when she arrived to the parts about Hermione.

"Come again," was all he said. Ginny sniffed and pulled away from him and sat down on the couch facing the roaring fire, leaving him to stand in absolute shock, and probably a bit of denial.

"Ron's a mess," she stated quietly after a few seconds, "he's gone around the bend. He doesn't want her out of his sight and he gets violent anytime I try to tell him otherwise."

"Well, his behavior isn't much of a surprise considering how possessive he is of her. I mean back in school, blokes were afraid of asking Hermione out to Hogsmeade because they were scared of Ron's temper. And the fact that she's best friends with The-Boy-Who-Lived didn't help matters. But to be honest, I don't blame him for acting that way. Any guy would."

Terry suddenly seemed tensed. "I'm not denying the fact that Hermione is alive, I'm taking your word for it. But are you sure it's really her?"

Ginny frowned. "What are you on about?"

"Think about it," he said patiently. He crouched down next to her. She almost lost herself in his eyes. "Pulling a stunt like this is a sure way of getting back at Ron for You-Know-Who's downfall. There are a lot of Death Eaters running free and happy out there. Who knows what they would do to get even with those three. They might do something like this to flush Harry out of hiding, because once this gets out, the Daily Prophet will have a field day."

Ginny rubbed her temples. "As if this night couldn't get any harder, you just had to start thinking like an Auror."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, "it seems really weird and… unreal, that's why."

She smiled and kissed him gently on the lips. "That's alright. Can you do me a favor? I have to get back with these potions. I need you to get dad to Ron's flat. Don't tell him anything and make sure he's alone. I don't want mom to know yet."

"Sure, I'll go now." Terry stood up, grabbed his cloak and wand to Apparate to the Burrow. "I'll tell him it's Auror stuff so that way your mom won't be interested."

"Thank you," Ginny said.

He smiled and blew her a kiss before Apparating.

Ginny leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes for a few minutes. She tried to replay the past hour in her head but it still seemed unreal, as Terry said. He was right about the whole Death Eater thing. She did not even think about that and she knew Ron most certainly did not. His best friend and soul mate came back to him tonight and the last thing he wanted was to have Hermione interrogated because the circumstances seemed suspicious.

Suspicious is an understatement.

Of all the questions circling in her head, Ginny knew the first one would be, "How?" How the hell did this happen?

_Alright, enough rest. Ron might go ballistic if you don't show up soon._

Ginny walked towards the bottles of potions. She dug in her kit and pulled out an empty one and set it on the table. She took one of the flasks-filled potions and poured the sparkling emerald green liquid until the empty flask was half full. She added two drops of oak sap and four drops of mountain spring water. Finally, she sprinkled jadestone dust and watched as the liquid turned translucent blue.

Satisfied, she corked the bottle and slipped it into her dressing gown and picked up her Healer Kit. She paused, debating whether she should change into something less comfortable but decided against it. She grabbed a handful of Floo powder and stepped in the fireplace.

"

What's that for?" Ron asked pointing at the flask.

"It's a potion to give her extra energy and to heal any minor internal damage so she can rest properly. Here you go. Make sure she drinks all of it."

Ron took the flask from her hand and gently propped Hermione so that her head rested on his shoulder. He raised the flask to her lips and tipped her head back to let the potion fall inside her mouth.

_She's so beautiful. _

Her eyelids fluttered but remained closed. He kissed her cheek tenderly before laying her down.

"Thanks Ginny. Did you get dad?"

"No, Terry went to get him."

Ron glared at her. "Terry? You told prissy-boy Terry? Can't you keep a blasted secret instead of-."

"Shut it Ron!" she snapped. She massaged her forehead. "Look I'm not in the mood to argue. You know Terry can be trusted, so why are you being such a prat about it?"

Before he could answer, a loud CRACK next to him startled Ginny. His father materialized out of thin air, holding his wand and looking very flustered. When his eyes fell on Hermione he sucked in a deep breath and whispered, "Holy Mother of Merlin!"

Mr. Weasley's jaw dropped in disbelief. He ignored his two children and proceeded cautiously to the bed. Slowly, he touched her arm and gasped when he found it was warm.

He looked at Ron in complete amazement. "How?"

Ron recalled his graveyard visit to his father.

"She didn't say how she got there?"

"

No," Ron replied, "she didn't remember her name at first. She was in shock, I think. I didn't know what to do, so I brought her here. Dad, will she be alright?"

Mr. Weasley did not miss the quiver in his son's voice. Suddenly, Ron was five years old, looking lost and desperate because someone stole his favorite toy and he sought comfort in his father's arms.

He hated lying to his children, but sometimes found it was necessary. "Yes, don't worry. She'll be fine."

He felt a slight twinge of guilt at Ron's relieved expression. He pushed it aside and tackled the main problem at hand. "Ron, are you sure it's Hermione?"

The light extinguished in Ron's eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Are you sure it's not a Polyjuice imposter?"

"Dad, why are you doing this? She's Hermione! I've had her here for over an hour."

"There are Glamour Charms," Mr. Weasley continued gently, "excellent ones at that. It could be a number of things to change a person's appearance. This could be a way to get even with you and Harry."

Ginny had a distinct feeling Terry had a lengthy conversation with her father.

Ron's next words surprised her. "I already thought about that."

"I'm not that daft Ginny," he said, obviously noticing her expression, "I know it's too good to be true but it feels right."

He looked down at Hermione. "It feels like her. It's like I'm complete again."

Mr. Weasley smiled sadly. "So, you won't mind if Terry checks to make sure she's safe, right?"

"Do I have a choice?" he said dryly.

Ginny suddenly noticed her absent boyfriend. "Where is Terry?"

"I asked him to run an errand for me," Mr. Weasley replied checking Hermione's pulse.

For the first time she noticed her father's attire. "You weren't home. Where were you?"

"Something urgent came up in Diagon Alley."

"And they need the Minister of Magic for that?" she asked bewildered.

Just then Terry appeared next to her. He too stared at Hermione and called Merlin's name until Mr. Weasley spoke to him. "Did you find Tonks?"

"Yes, sir, I did," Terry answered promptly, "she and Mr. Moody are at the scene."

"Good. Any reporters?"

Terry cringed. "Yes, sir. Matthews cast the Containment Spell a bit late, sir. I'm sorry; I should have done it myself."

Mr. Weasley waved his apology away. "No, no. It's too big of a story to keep out of the papers, anyway."

That got Ron's attention. "What happened?"

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Apparently, two Muggle priests and a Healer were found dead in Knockturn Alley some time ago."

"What?" Ginny asked incredulously, "Muggle priests? Healer? Which Healer?"

"Yes," Terry answered, "the Healer was killed with the Killing Curse. But the Muggle priests were burned from the inside. They're trying to identify the Healer."

"That's sick. And twisted, and horrible. What would do something like that? Ginny said but everyone knew the answer. Voldemort. But he was dead.

"The Daily Prophet is going to be celebrating," Ron declared. Everyone nodded.

"Terry, can you check Hermione for any-."

"Right away sir."

Ron rolled his eyes at Terry and moved to give him some room. Ginny gave him a nasty look.

"Don't hurt her, Boot," Ron warned before walking away.

They watched in silence while Terry performed the necessary Charms on Hermione. When he was finished, he looked up and said, "It's her alright."

"Told you," Ron grumbled and took up his place next to his lady love.

Mr. Weasley adjusted his glasses. "Molly will have a heart attack. Not to mention her parents. I have to tell them."

"Shouldn't we wait until Hermione wakes up?" asked Terry pocketing his wand.

"Yes. It's best that way. I'd like to know exactly what happened."

"

Well you don't have long to wait," Ginny said softly, "she's waking up."

Pain. Unbearable pain. Her body ached all over.

Every slight sound Hermione Granger heard pounded throughout her head as though a jackhammer was driving nails into her brain. She winced.

Every nerve in her body awoke as she slowly drifted to consciousness. All around her was black. The pounding continued.

Her limbs felt stiff and heavy, but with much difficulty, she managed to move her toes and clench her fists slightly.

She waited until the pounding ceased to open her eyes. A beam of white light shone into them causing her skull to almost crack open. She shut her eyes quickly and groaned. The pounding began again. Her fists clenched from the pain. She grimaced slightly.

Amidst the noise in her head, she barely heard muffled voices and loud footsteps. She felt all around her sink as though someone dropped heavy weights. A force shifted her head and worsened the pounding. She felt nauseous from the pain.

A loud droning noise reached her ears. It sounded like an incomprehensible, worn out stretched tape. She wanted to tell whoever was playing the tape to shut up, that she had a terrible headache and would appreciate some peace and quiet for a few minutes but her mouth felt parched and her vocal cords sore. Suddenly she was dying of thirst.

Hermione felt a soft, cool hand caress her jaw and heard the loud stretched sound again. She tried to speak but groaned instead. The soft hands left her face and forced her right eye open. Blinding light shone straight through. Cursing silently, Hermione flinched and shut her eyes tight. Thankfully the light did not return.

She began to recognize stray words from garbled speech around her but they were too many voices. She struggled to focus on one voice but it was useless. She tried to ask for water but no sound came out.

Someone held her hand and a soft, heavy voice whispered clearly in her ear over all the other voices, "Wake up Hermione. You've slept enough."

She paused. She knew that voice. She spent the best and worst parts of seven years with that voice.

Hermione turned her head slightly to the left and slowly opened her eyes. She ignored the continued garbled speech and focused on the very familiar, very beautiful blue eyes inches away from her face.

Her vision cleared. His fire red hair came into focus. She loved his hair. Through her headache, she smiled at Ron.

"Ron."

He smiled back and said, "It took you long enough. You really like to keep me waiting, don't you?"

She tried to laugh but ended up coughing. Ginny pushed Ron away from the bed. He fell on his rear end in surprise and narrowed his eyes at her, but she did not notice. She was busy fussing over Hermione in a professional manner.

"Hermione can you hear me? Do you know where you are? What's the last thing you remember?" she asked, poking her with her wand.

"Yes Ginny. I'm not deaf. I'm on a bed… in a room and Ron is the last thing I remember."

Despite the tension Ron laughed. His heart soared. _She's as brilliant as ever!_

Ginny however, stopped and stared. Before anyone could blink, she launched herself on Hermione crying, "It's you! It really is you!"

Hermione held her tightly. Her headache worsened with Ginny's ranting but did not let go until Mr. Weasley gently removed Ginny away. She fell into Terry's arms who looked a bit misty-eyed.

Her vision blurred. She closed her eyes briefly and croaked, "My head. It hurts."

Ron was at her side in an instant. "What's that, love?"

Her heart skipped a beat as the word 'love' flowed into her causing her tremble slightly in happiness.

"My head," she grimaced.

"Here, drink this," Mr. Weasley held out another vial of potion. Ron helped her sit up. She reached out to take it vial but her hands refused to stop shaking. Ron steadied her hands with his. She drank the nasty liquid and immediately her headache disappeared.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes, thanks." Hermione looked around and then at herself.

"Why am I dressed like this?"

Time stopped.

Everyone glanced at each other, not knowing where to start.

"Did something happen?" she tried again.

Nothing. She was getting impatient.

"Look, I don't remember much. Actually the last thing I remember was the Final Battle and then everything else is blank."

Ginny spoke up, "I thought you said Ron was the last thing you saw."

Hermione blushed. "Well, yes. I remember I saw him before I blacked out."

"Is that all?" Mr. Weasley asked gently. "Nothing else?"

"No, that's it. I feel as though I've been asleep for a while."

Ron swallowed. "You don't remember where I found you?"

Hermione was confused. "You found me? Where?"

"In the cemetery."

She stared at Ron. "Why on earth would I be in a cemetery?"

_She really doesn't remember. _

A thought suddenly struck Hermione. "Where's Harry?"

Ron stared at his feet. He did not want to tell her; he did not want to see the hurt on her face or the tears in her eyes. Hermione gripped his hand tightly and asked again in a scared voice, "Ron, where's Harry? Is-is he hurt?" She could not voice her real fear.

"No, Harry's not dead," Ron assured her. Hermione loosened her grip and her face relaxed. "He's alive and fine, as far as I know, but I really don't know much."

"What are you talking about?"

"He left," Ginny said bitterly, "he left England to deal with his problems. After the Battle, everyone thought you died. The Healers said you had irreversible brain damage because of a spell you did to save Harry's life. You know Harry, he felt guilty and everything and three months after your funeral, he left; without saying anything to anyone."

Hermione was quiet for a long while. Then, "I-I died?"

Ginny sat in a corner of Ron's bedroom and watched as Ron and her father patiently told Hermione everything that happened after Voldemort was vanquished. She was against it at first because Hermione was in a very delicate state and the last thing her brain needed was a traumatic overload. Ron pointed out that if they told her everything she might remember what really happened to her when the Healers took her.

Ginny told him it was a long shot, and using Memory potions might be useless. Either someone wiped her memories or Hermione involuntarily repressed them and trying to force them to re-surface could cause psychological damage.

In the end however, it was Hermione's decision and of course, she wanted to know everything. So, while Ron held her in his arms, he and her dad took turns talking to her.

Ginny just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a month. The night had been emotionally and mentally exhausting. She sighed when she remembered her classes in the morning. Terry sat next to her, idly playing with her hair. He often told her how much he loved her hair and how beautiful she looked when she wore it loose and it fell to her back. He once described it as a "silky, red waterfall."

Unfortunately, her mind was not on her current boyfriend. Since she told Hermione about Harry's disappearing stunt, all she could think about was him. He cut her deeply when he left and the wound was still fresh in her heart.

She should have seen it coming but, like any girl in love, she believed she could help him overcome his demons. As long as they were together, they would solve anything. She reassured him, over and over again, that she would never leave him and that she'll always love him; and he would tell her that he will never be worthy of her love.

He kept to himself and often stared at the picture Colin Creevy took of the three of them after Graduation; the last picture that showed their youth and happiness. He blamed himself for Hermione's death and he firmly believed Ron blamed him as well. After all, Ron lost his world when Hermione died.

She knew he was trying hard to cope with everything around him. Ron barely spoke to him, much less to anyone. The only times he and Ron spent together were at bars to get drunk. Once Harry confided in Ginny that he always drank to pass out hoping he never had to wake up again.

Ginny tried everything. She forgot herself in the process. She hardly ate and barely slept when Harry was out drinking. She tried not to think about him getting so drunk that he forgot himself and got hurt or fell in bed with another woman. Ginny stood at his side through everything, even through the insults and emotional abuse he hurled at her.

Despite the way he treated her at times, she continued loving him with her mind and body. Harry took everything she offered him and gave nothing back in return. He became more withdrawn every day until he was completely closed off from everyone.

One night he left and never came back. She cried for days, wondering what she did wrong to drive him away until Ron snapped her out of her pathetic shell. Little by little she glued the pieces of her life back together.

Without realizing it, Terry helped her regain her footing. He was everything she wanted in Harry but he was not Harry.

Ginny sighed and rested her head on Terry's shoulder. Immediately he drew her closer to him and together, they watched Ron give in to their father's decision of moving Hermione to St. Mungo's and calling on her parents.

Terry interlinked his fingers with hers and kissed the top of her head. He was so good to her. She could definitely learn to love him. After all, he was everything she ever wanted in Harry.

But he was not Harry.

_So much for my happy ending._

_Author's note: I could not resist the last line. For those who don't know, it's from Avril Lavigne's song: My Happy Ending. Excellent song, by the way. Thanks to everyone who reviewed_


	4. Secrets Of The Heart

_Chapter 3: Secrets of the Heart_

Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror in Ron's bathroom. She found it difficult to believe that the girl staring back at her was…her. The last image she had of herself was school-girl Hermione Granger; the one with the wild, bushy hair, deep brown eyes with dark circles under them from studying all night, a plain face, and an unflattering body.

Now, she looked different. Not glamorous or drop-dead-gorgeous in any sense of the word because deep down, she knew she was not a Parvati or Fleur. However, the physical changes were obvious, especially to her.

Her hair grabbed her attention at first. Her bushy locks were transformed into soft, shoulder-length curls that fell into ringlets down her back. Slowly, she reached up and wrapped an index finger around a curl and tugged it. _It's real! It's really my hair!_ Hermione was overwhelmed. She never thought she would have hair this beautiful.

The other change was her eyes. They were still brown but seemed to have a slightly darker shade that enhanced their depths. Her body was now more curvy and womanly. _Oh my god! I have breasts that can actually do something. _She never thought she could look remotely beautiful.

A soft knock in the door interrupted her thoughts. "Hermione, are you okay? You've been in there a long time now."

"I'm fine, Ron," she called, sounding strangely distant. He noticed as well because he asked again, "Are you sure you're alright?"

She did not answer. Was she alright? How was she supposed to explain this? Her rational mind knew it had something to do with the fact she went missing for many months. The thought both intrigued and scared her because, no matter how much she tried, she could not fill the gaps in her head.

Hermione opened the taps, bent over the sink and splashed the warm water on her face. "Ron?" she called.

"I'm right here. Ginny bought some clothes for you to change into before we leave for St. Mungo's. She left to get that Healer person, and Dad went with Terry to call in some Aurors."

She smiled. "Thanks. Do you have any soap?"

"There's soap in the shower." Ron paused. "Are you going to take a bath?"

Somehow, his last question made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Yes, she entertained many fantasies in her head involving Ron, herself and plenty of hot water but this seemed different.

"You can go ahead," he said, "I'll bring you a fresh towel."

Suddenly, she found the lump in her throat difficult to swallow. _Why are you freaking out? You desperately need a shower and it so happens that your best friend, the one you want to make love to, has one that's available and he's offering you a fresh towel. Just take off your clothes in Ron's bathroom, stand under Ron's shower and let Ron's steaming hot water caress your entire body, turn off Ron's water, and wrap yourself in Ron's soft towel. As long as you don't think about Ron in the shower with you, then you have nothing to worry about._

"I have the towel. Can I come in? You're starting to worry me."

_Oh god I'm doomed._

"Yes, you can." _Relax, be calm. You're in control of the situation, remember that. Don't let emotions rule your judgment even though he's been remarkably sweet and caring all night and all you want to do is tell him how much you love everything about him._

The door opened slowly and Ron peered in cautiously. He smiled shyly and set the yellow fluffy towel on the rack and closed the door. "I've never used it yet, so it's brand new. Mom got an entire set for me. She said it'll brighten up the room. It's too feminine for my taste."

Hermione grinned. "I'm willing to bet that the thin, dark blue, worn out towel on the floor screams masculinity."

"At least it's not fluffy," he playfully shot back.

They both laughed and once again Hermione reminded herself to keep her feelings in check. The last thing she wanted was to ruin this beautiful moment by pouring out the secrets of her heart. They held each other's gazes. Hermione, still self-conscious about her physical appearance, broke eye contact and turned away. She turned off the forgotten water and watched it disappear down the sink.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

She could tell him. Perhaps he knew what it felt like to be overlooked at times. Besides, he was all she had right now, considering Harry was somewhere in the world.

"Are you ill? Is the headache coming back?"

_He's so loving; and perfect. It's his passion I love most of all. His passion is in everything he does, from the way he fights to the way he cares about his friends and family._

"No Ron, I'm fine, really. It's just that…," she faced the mirror again, "I never though I'd look this nice."

She took his silence to mean he thought she sounded shallow so she hastened to explain. "I mean I know I'm not pretty and I'm nowhere near gorgeous and I never thought that I'd look any different when I get older. But now, I actually look like a girl. My hair is different. I don't know how it got like that but I'm really happy about it, and I mean, I really do look like a girl."

She summoned her courage and faced Ron who stared at her with an odd expression on his face. She groaned inwardly. _What was I thinking? He's a guy. He won't understand any of it. I've made a total fool of myself._

Embarrassed, she said, "Never mind. Forget I said anything. Thanks for bringing me the towel."

She reached out to take it when he suddenly spoke. "You don't look like a girl."

"W-What?"

"I mean you did when we were at school. But now, you don't look like a girl. You look like a beautiful, young woman."

'_Like a beautiful, young woman.'_ The words echoed in her head._ He thinks I'm beautiful!_

The lump in her throat refused to budge.

His voice was steady but she noticed the tips of his ears glowing red. "You do. I'm not telling you this to make you feel better or anything, but it's true. That's the first thing I noticed when I saw you earlier tonight; that you're no longer a beautiful girl but a beautiful woman. It made me angry and sad at the same time because I did not get to see the change."

He bowed his head and continued, "When you were gone, I thought I'd never see the way you'd look when we got older. I always held on to that. The three of us in the future, you know, it gave me something grand to look forward to: Harry and I playing professional Quidditch and you with the house-elf rights or something equally fitting."

Tears flowed freely from her eyes. Without thinking, she hugged him fiercely and cried her heart out on his chest. He kissed the top of her head and then rested his cheek on it.

"We'd live together," he continued, "in the same flat unless you wanted one of your own since you're a girl and all. Of course, you'll have to be nearby as in right next-door." His voice broke slightly.

She pushed away from his chest and wiped her eyes with shaking hands. "Ron, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for making you feel this way." She missed his warmth but decided she did not deserve it.

He looked confused. "It's not your fault. That's the way I feel…"

Hermione moaned louder and fresh tears splashed down her cheeks running past her chin. _It's my entire fault!_ She sat on the toilet seat and buried her face in her hands.

Ron crouched down and held her while she rocked back and forth. Huge sobs escaped from her chest. He was scared; he never saw her break down like this. "Hermione, please, tell me what's wrong," he said weakly, rubbing her back.

"Oh Ron! I-I didn't mean to leave you like that, but I had to do the spell."

He stopped massaging her back. "What do you mean?"

She gulped and tried to stop crying.

Ron gently pulled her hands away from her face. She refused to meet his eyes. "Hermione, look at me. What about the spell?"

"I'll tell you but first you have to promise me something. Don't get angry-," Hermione saw him bristle, "- and think about it before you do decide to get angry."

She waited until he nodded before continuing. "After Harry told us about the prophecy I spent hours in the library searching for a spell to help kill Voldemort or help Harry defeat him. I know Professor Dumbledore said that love will be the only weapon against him and Harry has to find a way to use it."

"So, that got me thinking. If I could find a spell or potion that could bind or link Harry's powers to someone he loves and who loves him back just the same, then there might be enough magic for Harry to use to defeat him. I found many but they were too weak. So I turned to the stronger branch of magic, the one that Voldemort underestimated."

Ron said, "Ancient Magic."

"Yes, Ancient Magic. But it's very complex and tricky and I had to translate it from all these different languages. Plus, there was this whole business of Legilimency involved and I had to find a way to work with it, not against it."

"I found two spells. One was a Power Amplification spell and the other a Power Stripping spell. I started on the amplification spell at first and realized it was exactly what I wanted. Two people were needed for it to work and they had to be deeply in love or soul mates. The spell would forge their powers as one, amplify it and then use their bodies as a vessel. It sounds easy but it wasn't, in fact it was the harder spell to learn. I had to prepare a potion to find out about Harry's soul mate."

Ron frowned. "You found Harry's soul mate?"

"Yes, I needed two drops of his blood and two drops of the other person's blood. If the color changes from murky brown to red, then that person would be Harry's soul mate."

"So, whose blood did you take?"

"Ginny's, of course, and mine."

"What?" Ron asked sharply.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. "Ginny's blood worked."

Ron ignored her statement. His mind was elsewhere. "Why did you use your own blood? I didn't know you liked Harry in that way. I mean, I had a feeling but-."

Hermione cut him off. "I never looked at Harry like that. Ginny's blood worked. She and Harry are supposed to be together."

"Then why did you use your blood?"

"Just to be sure," she said impatiently, "I wanted to cover all bases. We were in the middle of a war Ron; I had to do everything in my power to help Harry."

"Alright, alright," he snapped, "don't bite my head off."

Her eyes flashed angrily at his stupid jealous streak but held her tongue in place.

"As I was saying, Ginny's blood worked. But then I started thinking: what if I use the blood of all the people who love and care deeply for him to make a Power Linking Potion. It should make the spell stronger, right?"

Ron immediately cut her off. "You made that potion? But Hermione, the Ministry banned that potion because-."

"- because people who drank it could not contain the power inside them and usually died by a ruptured blood vessel in their brain. It's also called a stroke. Yes, I know all about it, but this was Harry. If it didn't work, my fail safe plan was that the power would be so strong it affects Voldemort more than Harry."

"That's incredibly stupid and reckless and very un-like you."

"Desperate times called for desperate measures, Ron," she shot back.

"I can't believe you did something like that and didn't tell anyone."

"Ginny knew; she had to, obviously. So did Professor Lupin. He helped me get some ingredients because I didn't want to bother Professor Dumbledore at the time. Professor Lupin approved of my idea about using everyone's blood."

"Did you use my blood?" asked Ron. She nodded. "How? And why didn't you say something Hermione? You know I would have helped. You didn't have to do all the work."

How could she explain the situation without him losing his temper?

"Remember the day you woke up late and cut your chin shaving? You asked me to heal your cut, but before I did, I wiped the blood away with a napkin on the table in the Great Hall. That's how I got your blood."

She watched the flurry of emotions skating across his face until he settled on two: shock and hurt. Her guilt bubble grew.

"I'm learning lots of new things about you tonight," he said sarcastically. He released her hands, stood up and leaned against the sink.

"I didn't betray or deceive you," she whispered.

"Well, what do you call it then?" he asked harshly.

God she felt awful. _Don't do this to yourself. He's overreacting. He always does, remember?_

"Look, if it makes you feel any better, Harry did not know as well, and he had to drink the potion."

Ron frowned. "How did you get his blood then?"

"Ginny."

Ron groaned. "I should have guessed. Who else's?"

"The ingredients called for blood of the father, blood of the mother, blood of the friend, and blood of the soul. Your mom gave her blood since she sees Harry as her son, Ginny is his soul and we're his friends. I asked Professor Lupin for his blood to use as the father's, but he said Professor Dumbledore's blood will be more fitting."

Ron sighed deeply and rubbed his temples. "And the Headmaster agreed to this? He wanted you to make a restricted potion with a very high chance of killing Harry before Voldemort does? Okay, so you made the potion. How is it supposed to work with the Amplification Spell again? "

"What was supposed to happen was that Harry drinks the potion before dueling with Voldemort. He and Ginny, together, will say the Amplification spell, and because of the potion in his system, the magic of everyone who gave their blood will be linked to his. If all goes well and both Harry's and Ginny's powers are amplified, they will become invincible for exactly one minute. That's when they perform the Power Stripping curse on Voldemort. I used Arithmancy to calculate how much time they would have to do the curse if something went wrong and I came up with twenty to thirty seconds at most."

"Of course, nothing ever goes right. Professor Dumbledore died before Harry could use the spell, and Ginny got stunned by Lucius Malfoy."

"Wait, Harry knew about the spell as well?"

Hermione fidgeted. "No, he didn't. Ginny and I agreed that it would be best if the both of you didn't know about it."

Ron's anger began surfacing. "Why? Because we're so stupid that we would not understand it or you knew we will stop the both of you from doing something so foolish and suicidal!"

"Ron, please calm down," she begged.

"Don't tell me to calm down, Hermione!"

Hermione stood up and grabbed his arm. He pulled away viciously and glared at her in utmost fury.

"You knew the risks involved but you still did it! You weren't even Harry's soul mate but you instigated the spell. The spell that almost KILLED YOU!"

She winced. She did not want to fight or argue. She just wanted to hold him close and never let go. Couldn't he see her actions proved that she loved him above everything and everyone else? She risked her life for him so may times. She actually died for him.

Something suddenly dawned on Ron because his eyes widened and he pointed a trembling finger at her. "You did it on purpose," he whispered.

Hermione hung her head in despair.

"You willingly did the spell even though you knew it would kill you. The spells worked but, it didn't go as according to plan and some parts backfired. Since you cast the spell, it backfired on you most of all."

His clenched his jaw, staggered backwards and looked at the girl who he thought he knew inside out. Hermione took a hesitant step towards him but he backed away until his fingers closed around the door knob. He had to get out of there, away from her because he was liable to say something he would regret.

"Ron," she whispered timidly.

He opened the door and said, "Hurry up and get dressed."

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Ron banged the door shut and stomped away into the living room. His chest heaved with anger. He never imagined Hermione to be so deceitful, so…Slytherin. He set his hands flat on the table and hunched his shoulders trying to shake the mind-numbing hurt away but it was useless.

Between Harry and her, he did not know who was worse at betraying their friends. _Fucked up Gryffindors, that's what they are._

It was obvious she did not give a fuck about him since she did not think twice before she jumped in front of Harry. He wasted his bloody time and energy from secretly loving her, protecting her and lusting after her. Even when those kiss-ass Ravenclaws like MacMillan took her to Hogsmeade on dates he never wavered in his feelings. Hell, he never touched any girl at school because of her.

Now, this was how she repaid him. Ron could not control the blinding rage any longer. He grabbed a nearby chair and hurtled it across the room. It smashed into a nearby wall.

He did everything for her and the damn girl knew it. He made a prat of himself one late night in the common when he was trying to study Potions with her. He foolishly admitted that he wanted her to be proud of him in his studies and Quidditch and almost cried when she simply smiled and ran up the girls' staircase.

Ron took another chair and slammed it into a window. Shards of glass flew everywhere like sparkling diamonds falling from the sky.

It was then he knew she would never love him but because of the stubborn ass he was, he still did everything in her glorious name.

He grabbed a heavy, stupid-looking bowl from the table.

Hermione Granger; his pure, sweet, innocent, chaste Angel was now a sly, manipulative bitc-.

"Ronald Weasley! What are you doing? Are you crazy?"

He let the ornament fall to the floor where it shattered to pieces. Hermione hurried towards him and spun him around roughly. Her eyes blazed and her cheeks were flushed as though she had been properly shagged. Ron let his eyes drop to her lips that pouted angrily. A new feeling rose inside him as he glanced at her chest.

Anger quickly left his body to be replaced by that primal need he often experienced whenever they argued. She was yelling and screaming at him but he was drawn to the fire in her eyes and her pink, tantalizing tongue that lashed out angry words. She wore Ginny's pale blue pajama pants and blouse. The thin cotton material showed a hint of her nipples.

_So damn sexy._

Hermione said something about being selfish and jabbed her finger into his chest. Her hair looked damp and she smelled like soap.

His soap. All the blood in his body rushed south.

A few minutes ago, Hermione was naked in his shower, rubbing herself with his soap and then wrapped her body with his towel. Suddenly, a fleeting image of the two of them fucking against a wall in his shower caused a painful twinge in his trousers. Hermione's head whipped back, her eyes shut and her mouth open in pleasure as she cried out every time he thrust inside her.

The last of his control snapped. Ron growled, "Fuck it," and grabbed her shoulders and crushed his lips to hers.

She froze. For a few seconds Hermione wondered if she entered some warped zone where one minute she was screaming bloody murder at Ron and the next minute, he was attacking her lips.

When he tried to pry her lips open with his tongue, her brain finally registered the fact and she reacted. With equal fervor she pulled him closer and kissed him back. Hermione fell forward and pressed against his firm body. She parted her lips and plunged her tongue into his mouth taking him completely by surprise.

There was nothing shy or hesitant about it. Hermione knew what she wanted. She spent almost six years craving this moment and refused to hold back. Their tongues battled furiously. She gripped his shoulders and moaned when he took her tongue between his teeth and sucked hard.

Pangs of arousal shot directly to her centre causing her knees to buckle. Ron, never breaking the kiss, caught her and lifted her up onto the table. Her fingers clutched his shirt to pull him closer. Her foggy brain told her to stop before the situation got out of control but at that moment he started on her neck.

She lost all sense of reason. God, his lips felt like heaven. Hermione tangled her fingers in his beautiful hair to hold his head in place. She leaned back and bared her throat. Her breath hitched when his tongue ran down her chin and neck and stopped at her collar bone.

"Oh god, Ron!" she whimpered as shivers ran down her spine and spread across her lower back.

She wanted more of him. Her body ached for his flesh. Just as she was about to unbutton his shirt, he pulled away.

She groaned at the loss of his lips and reached out to pull him back but her fingers grasped air instead. Hermione opened her eyes and saw Ron looking horrified. He touched his mouth and glanced at her. She saw shame and regret in his eyes.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I did not mean to do that."

He destroyed all her happy feelings with that sentence. Hermione blinked and composed herself before nodding. She jumped off the table with a heavy heart and tried not to let his words affect her.

"Please don't be mad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Hermione, wait, don't walk away. I can explain."

"Save it Ron," she snapped, "I don't want to hear about your hormones overruling your judgment."

"No, no," he pleaded, "It's nothing like that. Well, it's a bit like that but not all of it. I-we-you, it's complicated and I'm sorry."

Hermione turned around and shouted, "Exactly what are you sorry about Ron? Kissing me and enjoying it because you wanted to, or kissing me because you felt you had to?"

He faltered and stared at her awe. "Kissing me and enjoying it because you–I mean, kissing you and enjoying it because I wanted to. Yeah, that makes sense now."

Hermione did not know whether to laugh at his confused statement, cry from relief or snog him senseless. "Did you mean that?"

Ron seemed hesitant. "Do you want me to mean it?"

"Oh for heaven's sake Ron!"

"Okay, okay!" he threw up his hands in surrender, "I meant what I said. I really wanted to, you know, kiss you and everything."

Hermione knew she was grinning like an idiot but she did not care. Ron blushed and asked, "Did _you_ mean what you did?"

She forced herself to stop smiling and gave him a superior look. "Whatever are you referring to Ronald?"

His smiled widened. "You know exactly what I'm referring to. A moment ago you attacked me with the world's most bruising kiss."

Hermione shook her head slightly. "Forgive me. I don't recall ever attacking you. If my memory serves me right, you were the one who kissed me first."

"I do not deny that fact," he played along, "but do you deny kissing me back?"

She stepped closer to him. Her heart was pounding so hard it nearly rocked her body. He reached out and twirled one her curls between his fingers. Ron used his other hand to pull her closer until he felt her breath sweeping gently across his lips.

"I love you."

Hermione held her breath and waited. He proved many times tonight he felt the same but actually saying the three words were very different.

Ron kissed her tenderly. "I love you too."

Someone cleared her throat. The two teenagers leapt away from each other. Tonks grinned broadly at them. Hermione forgot her embarrassment when Tonks pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

"I almost knocked Arthur down the stairs when he said you're with Ron. Remus almost fainted!"

Hermione laughed. "It's so good to see you Tonks!"

"You've grown Hermione." She leaned in closer. "Are you sure you were dead or just missing?"

Ron spoke. "The theory is that she was kidnapped."

Hermione faced him again. "I was not."

He raised his eyebrows. "Can you remember anything?"

She sputtered. He smiled. "I rest my case."

Tonks looked at them with raised eyebrows. "So, it took death and destruction to finally bring you two stubborn asses together."

"Aren't you supposed to be doing a job? Like taking Hermione safely to St. Mungo's?" Ron said defensively.

"Yes I am." Her eyes roamed the debris in Ron's living room. "I don't want to know."

To say Ron Weasley was tired was an understatement. At three in the morning he could barely keep his eyes open but he stood by the door way and waited patiently for the Healers to complete their extensive examination of Hermione.

Under the orders of the Minister of Magic, her private room was under constant surveillance by Aurors and one was always present inside the room once a Healer was with her. It was also impossible for someone to get near the room without passing through five Aurors. Mr. Weasley insured that only two Healers tended to Hermione: Head Healer Smith and Healer Jefferson. Ginny flitted in and out of her room as well.

Ron leaned against the doorframe and watched his dad and the Head Healer converse in urgent whispers. They occasionally referred to an open folder in the Healer's hands. The folder was filled with slips of parchment. Mr. Weasley picked up two pieces and studied them closely. The Head Healer pointed at something on the slip, Mr. Weasley nodded and pocketed them. They shook hands and parted.

Ron signaled to his father who smiled tiredly and walked over.

"Hey dad," he greeted, "I thought you were going to get Hermione's parents?"

"Tonks and Remus volunteered because I had a few things to tend to. Ginny and Jefferson still in there?"

"Yeah," Ron replied, "what did Healer Smith want?"

"What? Oh! Nothing. I was only making sure that when this gets out to the public, there won't be reporters swarming in here."

Ron made a face. "Yeah, she'll be safe here but as soon as she goes home, she won't have a normal life."

Mr. Weasley shook his head slowly. "I don't think any of you did have a normal life especially since the Famous Trio defeated the Dark Lord. And now this…Hermione will probably be dubbed The-Girl-Who-Rose-From-The-Dead."

Ron clenched his fists. The thought of those twisted reporters hovering over his love and making up ludicrous stories about her made him sick. He swore to keep every single one away, no matter the cost. He knew how the false reports and accusations in the Daily Prophet articles affected Harry back in fifth year and he'd be damned if he let Hermione suffer.

"Don't worry about it," Mr. Weasley assured him when he saw the expression on his son's face.

Footsteps drew their attention down the corridor. Lupin and Tonks were escorting the Granger's through St. Mungo's. Hermione's dad looked dazed and apprehensive. Mrs. Granger however, was flustered. Her hair frizzed out even more than usual. Her brown eyes were red and swollen. When she caught sight of Ron, she broke free from her husband's grasp and ran towards him. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Ron swallowed thickly when she stopped and looked up at him. He was almost three heads taller. Mrs. Granger grabbed his arms and whispered, "Is it true? Did you find my baby?"

Ron mouthed wordlessly like a gold-fish. His eyes darted to his father and then to Mr. Granger. He nodded.

Mrs. Granger squeaked and hugged Ron so tight he almost lost his footing.

"Oh thank you Ron! Bless your heart!" she reached up and planted kisses all over his flaming red face. Her tears ran down his chin. He heard Tonks snigger.

Mr. Granger gently pried his wife away. The door to Hermione's room opened and Ginny emerged. She gave an "Oh" of surprise and then smiled.

"Come on. Hermione's waiting for you guys." She hugged Mrs. Granger and together, they left the others.

Mr. Granger shook hands with Mr. Weasley and then turned his attention to Ron who immediately tensed.

An hour ago Ron had his tongue down his daughter's throat. An hour ago, he and Hermione

were making out hot and heavy on his table. An hour ago, Hermione took a shower in his bathroom.

_Stop it!_

Mr. Granger hugged Ron, in a manly way, and said solemnly, "Thank you."

Ron nodded again.

"Come on Harold," Mr. Weasley said, "let's go in."

Ron waited until the door closed before breathing again. He collapsed on a nearby chair.

Tonks laughed heartily. "Lucky thing Hermione's dad isn't a mind reader otherwise we'd be digging your grave tonight."

Ron ran a shaky hand through his hair. Lupin grinned.

"You expression was priceless!"

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The first hint of sunlight threatened to spill from behind the dark gray clouds in the sky. There was a lull in activity in St. Mungo's since visiting hours were long over and most patients were asleep. Ever so often, a Healer would be seen wandering the corridors like a zombie.

Ginny sat on a chair in front of a table, at one end of a long corridor and absently scratched her quill over Hermione's charts. Her bloodshot eyes scrutinized the different orders the Healers wrote on the parchment. The last one involved Memory Potions. Ginny frowned, circled the offending line and drew two question marks next it. Memory Potions caused more damaged than good especially if they were give too early during treatment. She wrote a quick note for the medi-witches, _'Double check with Healer Smith, Healer Jefferson or Trainee Healer Weasley. Do not distribute to patient.'_

Her shoulders sagged from exhaustion and her brain wanted to explode from overdrive. _I need sleep._

Ginny glanced at her watch. Four hours until her classes began. Her shift was over so she figured she could Floo home for a quick nap and shower, and then check on Hermione before attending classes. However, she had to wait on Healer Jefferson before leaving.

She sighed and glanced down the corridor to see Ron fast asleep on a chair. Hermione's parents stayed the night in her room and Ron refused to go home with his mother. He did not want to stay five feet away from her.

Ginny filed the charts away and leaned back. Her red hair cascaded over the back of the chair as she slouched down until she found a comfortable position. She closed her eyes and fell into deep sleep for fifteen minutes until a finger poked her shoulder.

"Um, excuse me?"

Ginny opened her eyes to glare at the person who had a death wish for disturbing her but her expression softened when she saw a very distinguished, very flustered but very, very handsome Trainee Healer. She leapt to her feet and automatically smoothed out her hair and rumpled clothes.

"Sorry for waking you."

"No, I wasn't asleep," she said breathlessly and quickly made her way around the table. He seemed to be in his early twenties and at least six feet tall with broad shoulders and neat black facial hair on his chin.

He smiled gratefully and held up a breakfast tray of pumpkin juice, eggs, buttered toast and a glass of water in his hands. "I'm supposed to take this to the patient in room 8B but the Aurors won't let me through. They said my name isn't on some list." He sighed in frustration. "One of them in particular, the one with the weird eye, keeps looking at me and threatened to turn me into a ferret if I go near the room again."

Ginny laughed and patted his arm. She felt the bulge of muscles under his clothes. _Damn that's hot!_

"Come one, I'll take you through." She led the way to Hermione's room.

"Thank you so much. My name's Damien, by the way."

"I'm Ginny. How long have you been here?"

"I've just started the program. You?"

"Two years this month."

"Excellent! So, you won't mind showing me the ropes around here?"

"It'll be my pleasure Damien," she smiled sweetly.

As they got close to Hermione's room, Damien shrank back when he spotted Mad-Eye Moody.

Ginny whispered, "Don't worry. His bark is worse than his bite."

True to his words, Moody glared at Damien and held his wand up for him to see. Damien visibly gulped. Ginny fixed a disapproving eye on Moody.

"Moody, don't you have anything better to do than scare Trainee Healers to death?"

He fixed his normal eye on her but the glass one did not leave Damien. "He's not supposed to be here, your father's orders."

Ginny pointed at the breakfast tray and said, "She needs something to eat. Besides, I'll take him. You can tell my dad if you want."

"You, boy!" Moody barked. The tray almost slipped from his hands. "What's your name?"

"D-Damien."

Moody grimaced. "I don't like that name."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "We're trusting people based on your dislike for their names? Can you be any more insane?"

"He looks funny," Moody grumbled. The Auror next to him rolled his eyes as well; Damien's face paled.

"You've really gone around the bend, you know that. Look, five minutes and I'll go in with him. Deal?"

Moody gave him a couple of death-stares until he relented. "Three minutes and I'm timing." He waved his wand over the tray of food and waited a while. When nothing happened he gave a satisfied smirk and moved aside.

"Thank you," she said sarcastically and beckoned to Damien. The poor boy almost ran past him to Ginny's safety.

"That was scary," he said breathing heavily.

Ginny grinned. "And today is his good day. This is the room."

But Damien was not listening. He stared shell-shocked at Ron's sleeping form. "Is-is that who I think it is?"

"Who do you think it is?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Ron Weasley, best friend of Harry James Potter-,"

_Oh boy! Here we go again._

"-The-Boy-Who-Lived! One of the Famous Trio."

Ginny forced a smile at the goofy expression on his face. "Yes, that's my brother Ron."

Damien's attention snapped towards hers. "Your brother? Then that means you're Ginny Weasley. Oh Merlin! I should have guessed. When you told me your name, and the red hair, it all fits."

He looked as though Christmas came early. Ginny debated whether or not to let him see Hermione. She knew it would leak to the media soon but she wanted to maintain her friend's privacy as long as possible, especially with another 'Colin Creevy' around.

_But he looks so cute when he's all excited like that!_

"Damien, can I have the tray? I'll take it in."

He frowned. "No, it's okay. I'll handle it."

Ginny quickly explained. "No, I'm not trying to do your job or anything. The patient in here is under quarantine because of memory loss. She's a danger to anyone who gets near her and since I've been with her all night, she knows who I am and she won't attack me or anything. You on the other hand…"

She trailed off for a dramatic effect and it worked. Damien nodded and handed her the tray. "You can wait here."

Ginny slipped quietly inside the room and closed the door behind her. The room was fairly dark, but she was able to make out two figures on either side of Hermione's bed. They were fast asleep holding their daughter's hand. She watched Hermione's even breathing and peaceful face and felt a rush of love and adoration for her best-friend and sister.

She set the tray down gently on a nearby table and cast a warming charm over the food. She did a quick check of her vital signs and left the room to find Ron awake and very grumpy.

Damien was seated beside him and talking enthusiastically about the stories he heard of the Famous Trio. Ginny giggled. Ron looked as though he wanted to murder him. Damien was waving his hands around in an attempt to do an impression of something, or someone, Ginny could not tell. A draft of wind blew into the room. She glanced up at an open window and quickly closed the door and called out to Damien.

"Hey, I see you managed to wake Ron. He's never up before twelve."

Damien beamed. Ron scowled and asked, "How is she?"

"Still asleep."

"You know the crazy girl in there?" Damien asked in amazement.

Ron glared at him but Ginny quickly intervened. "No, he found her wandering the streets. Ron does things like that. He loves helping people, even if they're strangers, don't you Ron?"

He struggled to follow. "Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Right. Well we better get going before Moody decides to come get you."

Damien jumped to his feet. Ginny looked at her brother and said, "You should get breakfast."

"Mom said she'll bring me some."

"Okay. I'm going home to rest before my classes at nine. Tell Terry when you see him. His shift starts in an hour."

Ron nodded and glanced hopefully at the closed door. She smiled and kissed his cheek.

Suddenly, the doors to Hermione's room burst open and flew off its hinges. A blood-curling scream echoed throughout the length of the corridor. Ron immediately pushed Ginny out of harms way as one of the doors hit the roof and gravity pulled it back down. The other flew towards the chair Ron previously occupied and smashed it into the wall.

Damien pulled Ginny away from the line of fire. "What the hell was that?"

She shook her head. "Get the Aurors now!"

Damien nodded and scampered away.

She heard Ron scream, "HERMIONE! NO!" and turned just in time to see him sprint into her room.

Ginny pulled out her wand, followed her brother and got another shock of her life. Hermione was in the middle of the room levitating at least five feet from the ground. The bed was thrown against the far wall and her parents were cowering in a corner.

The tables and chairs in the room shook furiously. The breakfast tray clattered as though it was tap-dancing. The eggs floated merrily in pumpkin juice while the water soaked the toast.

Hermione pointed at the tray. It rose off the table and zoomed towards Ron. He ducked quickly and the tray slammed onto the wall behind him. She glowered at them.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" Ginny shouted.

"I don't know!" he said.

She outstretched her right hand towards the table and raised it up. The table rose in time with her hand. Ginny and Ron's mouth dropped open.

"Holy shit," Ron whispered.

She threw the table over their heads. Ginny heard muffled shouts and turned around.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Moody shouted as he dodged the table. He took one look at Hermione and threw a Stunning Spell at her.

Ron knocked him down in seconds. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Don't even think about hexing her!"

"She'll damage everyone Weasley," Moody growled and pushed Ron off him.

"Get her parent's out of here!" Ginny ordered the other Auror who quickly obeyed.

"Ron! RON! We have to calm her down! Talk to her!"

"I tried that already. She doesn't know it's me! Something's wrong!"

Moody aimed another Stunner but she deflected it effortlessly. "Someone draw her attention!"

Ron ran towards her. He threw up a Shield Charm as a jet of green light streaked towards him. _Since when can she do wandless magic with this much power?_ At the corner of his eyes, he saw Ginny and Moody throwing stunning spells at her, but her Shield Charm seemed to absorb them.

"Hermione, it's me Ron!" he called. He jumped back to avoid another curse thrown his way.

"Don't you remember me? I'm your best friend. We went to school together. Hogwarts. I saw you on the train. You told me I had dirt on my nose!"

Something flickered in her eyes. He tried again. "We're friends with Harry Potter!"

The ceiling lights swayed back and forth furiously. The bed started moving away from the wall. "Keep talking to her Ron!" Ginny yelled.

"You told me you love me last night. We kissed Hermione! Come on, I'm your boyfriend."

The bed began spinning, slow at first then it gradually picked up speed. It whirled around so fast it became a blur.

"That worked really well Weasley," Moody said dryly.

"Hermione you're gonna hurt us! STOP IT!"

Suddenly the hinges on one of the ceiling lights gave way and it fell and crashed onto middle of the room. Bits of glass and metal flew everywhere. Ginny screamed. Ron felt glass graze his face and hot blood dripping from a gash in his arm.

_Come one love! Stop this before you kill us!_

"Hermione please stop!" he begged, "I-I saved you from a troll!"

Everything stopped. Hermione stared at Ron. The expression on her face changed from fury to disbelief then to recognition. Slowly, her feet touched the ground. She started to take a hesitant step towards Ron, when her legs failed to support her.

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! You guys make me happy!_


	5. Harry Potter

_Author's Note: I have nothing against the Vatican, only deep respect and admiration. I have simply built on ideas and theories about the Vatican based on the articles I've read on the Internet, newspapers, magazines and the following books:_ Angels and Demons _and _The Da Vinci Code_ by the author Dan Brown, and the highly controversial _Holy Blood, Holy Grail_ by Michael Baigeat, Henry Lincoln and Richard Leigh. I have also gone to great lengths to ensure that religion is not integrated in the story but in some cases I cannot prevent it. While it is kept to a minimum, I want to stress that it is essential to the plot. I apologize in advance if I offend anyone because I know that religion is a very sensitive topic, especially with all the wars and negative vibes about all the different religions in the world. Keep in mind I am a devout Catholic._

_Chapter Four: Harry Potter_

_Somewhere in America._

With all intent and purpose, blond-haired Harry Potter sat in a small café eating a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch, and reading the newspaper _The Daily Wizard News_. He did not even look up when a pretty brunette slid into the booth and idly picked at her salad.

"They're re-locating the Death Eaters," Harry pointed to a small article at the bottom of the page. "They didn't say where. That's smart of them, for a change."

"Everyone's in position," she said softly.

"I still don't understand how Malfoy wormed his way out of his sentence," Harry continued, "all the evidence against him vanishing in one night is not possible."

"The target is sighted again and he's making his way down the street." The salad sat forgotten. She flicked her ear lobe and spoke softly, "Remember everyone we're Muggles, so please limit the use of your wands. The less memory Charms the better. Is that clear?"

Harry heard three different voices agreeing in his ear. He swallowed the last of his sandwich and glanced at the girl.

"You should eat something," he remarked casually.

"I'm fine," she replied.

Harry's ear piece crackled slightly and someone spoke. "Sarah, Harry. We lost him. I think he's coming up your side."

"He knows we're onto him," the girl, Sarah, said. She looked at Harry, "I have to do this. He knows everyone except me. I'll distract him or something. We can't afford to loose him again. We need the name of his boss."

"I don't like it," someone said in their earpieces.

"It's the only shot we've got," another argued, "we'll have eyes on her the whole time."

Harry did not agree. He did not want his partner alone with a known Dark Wizard who specialized in killing Muggles and Muggle-borns.

"I've got a fix on him. He's heading into the café. Sarah, this is your chance."

Harry exhaled slowly and caught Sarah's eyes. He shook his head.

Sarah narrowed her eyes in annoyance. "Do you want him to disappear for another ten months? I don't. He's the one responsible for all the illegal overseas transactions. We nail him; we get his boss and the investors and we send a lot of people to prison. He can recognize you with or without the Glamour Charm. Changing your hair color and concealing your scar doesn't work with him. _I_ have to do this!"

There was no way in hell Harry was letting her get within a few meters of the guy.

"You're being an over-protective jackass you know," she huffed, "do not stop me from doing my job Potter, and I mean it."

A voice in his ear said, "Try not to piss her off dude. We don't want the guy unconscious."

Harry folded the papers and spoke, "Fine, you can do anything you want but do not leave this diner."

Her mouth twisted in anger. If looks could kill, he'd surely be dead.

"Okay, here we go," someone said in their ears, "he'll be inside in three, two, one…

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. The background noise faded. He listened and heard the café door jingle open. He felt rather than saw the man's feet cross the threshold, his hesitant footsteps as he made his way to the counter while searching for any visible threat, and his nervousness because he knew he was being followed.

As he drew closer, his footsteps became louder and louder until they sounded like thunder in Harry's head. When Harry felt the warmth radiating off his clothes from walking in the sun he acted.

He pulled out his wand and muttered a Trip-Jinx. The man fell face down on the ground. Immediately Harry summoned invisible cords to tie the man's ankles and wrists together. His wand disappeared just as the other people in the café began taking an interest.

"Excuse me sir, are you alright?" Harry asked the man helping him to his feet. When he caught sight of Harry, he opened his mouth to shout but Harry waved his hand over the man's face and his jaw cemented shut.

A waitress came up to him. "Is he okay? He looks ill."

Harry feigned concern. "I'm not sure. He must have hit his head when he fell. He probably needs some water."

"Or some fresh air," Sarah said from next to him. She ran her fingers through her hair, making sure to flick her ear lobe in the process. "We should take him outside. His coloring is a bit off, don't you think?"

Harry nodded and draped one of the man's arms around his shoulder and dragged him outside. Sarah paid the bill and hurried after them.

The man squirmed and struggled against Harry's firm grip but as soon as took a few steps outside, three men from Harry's team approached and relieved him of his load.

"Thanks guys. The bastard's heavy. Someone take his wand."

"Get him away from the crowd," Sarah ordered. They dragged him into an alley where Harry undid the spell.

"Fuck you Potter," the man spat heavily as soon as he opened his mouth.

Harry smiled. "Good to see you too, Seth. I missed you like hell. So, are you going to tell me?"

Seth matched Harry's smile. "Fuck you."

One of Harry's team members cuffed the back of his neck. Seth cried out in pain.

"I still have to bring you in, Seth. It'll be easier if you co-operate."

Seth glanced at all of the Aurors standing in front of him and grimaced. "He'll kill anything that stands in his way. You don't stand a chance. You think Voldemort's terrible, he's nothing compared to my King. I still won't go to prison. Do you know why? Because I'm invincible, Potter. You on the other hand are expendable."

"What the hell is he talking about?" Sarah demanded, "It's almost like he's rambling."

"Did he just say King?" someone asked, "he's talking about his boss? 'The King'?"

Harry looked uneasily at Seth. He had said The Dark Lord's name and hardly anyone says 'Voldemort' even though he's gone. But, Seth said it without any trace of fear or stutter. Something was not making sense.

Suddenly a piece of iron flew past Sarah and hit Harry on his forehead. He saw stars exploding and inky blackness and felt his world shift. Blood dripped down to his lips.

_Shit, that hurts! Oh god, that fucker is going to regret the day he was born._

When the stars disappeared, Harry found himself sitting in the middle of a puddle of muddy water that soaked through his pants.

"Harry! Harry! Are you okay?"

"I'll live," he slurred as he tried to stand but Sarah pushed him back down. She told one of the guys to watch Harry before rounding on Seth. "What the hell did you do that for?"

"Go to hell Mudblood," Seth choked out.

Sarah shoved Harry away before he raised his hand to hit Seth. "This isn't getting us anywhere." She pulled out a vial of Veritaserum. "Hold his head," she snapped at Harry and proceeded to add three drops into his mouth.

They watched as his face went slack. Sarah said, "Give me the name of your boss and the investors."

"Jacques Marke and I only know one investor because I do business with him."

Sarah snapped her fingers impatiently. "Well, what's his name?"

Seth looked at her with glazed eyes. "Draco Malfoy."

"You should have someone take a look at that," Sarah nodded to the gaping cut on his left eye brow. He swept his thumb across it to stop the blood from falling into his eye. Harry shrugged his shoulders and followed her into the Auror Headquarters.

"Didn't you hear me?"

"Yes, I did, mum, but it's fine. I want to get some more answers from Seth before anything else happens." He nodded to the fellow Aurors.

"He isn't going anywhere, Harry. Either you let the medi-witch heal you or I'll do it. And you know I can get very rough." She stopped and turned to face him.

_Ouch! I hate it when she looks at me like that._ Harry grinned at her. "Fine. I'm only doing this so you can leave me alone."

"Whatever works," said Sarah leading the way to the Holding Cell, "I don't want to tell Gordon his star Auror can't work because of major blood loss."

"No, we won't want that now, would we? Did anyone start the background check on this French guy, Jacques Marke?"

"Yeah the report came in a few seconds ago," Sarah replied, "and there's nothing about him. He doesn't exist."

"What? but the-."

"Yes, I know, the Veritaserum I used is the strongest concentration, and Malfoy is indeed one of the investors-."

"-which means that the name is an alias used only in France and once again we hit a dead end." Harry wanted to scream. "Any pictures came up?"

Sarah shook her head.

"Who the hell is this guy?" Harry clenched his fist. He heard Sarah mutter 'A king' before he heard his own name.

"POTTER!"

_What the hell is he doing here?_

"Yes sir?"

Harry turned around and saw his superior down the corridor halfway in his office. Sarah looked at the both of them before Gordon gave her an expression that clearly said, "Go away."

Harry sighed. Before he could move, Gordon called, "you have a visitor in your office. I would not keep him waiting if I were you."

Harry was dead tired. The last thing he wanted was for some high –official person to make his night worse. He looked down at his wet clothes and considered changing but thought the better of it.

He pulled out his wand and muttered a quick Cleaning Charm and strode quickly to the office he shared with Sarah. It was not really an office, more like a large broom cupboard with two desks, two chairs and personal effects scattered about. He opened the door.

Arthur Weasley, Minister of Magic of England, stood next to the window with a far-away expression on his face. Harry stopped and stared.

"Mr. Weasley?"

He faced Harry and a genuine smile lit his tired face. "Harry! Good to see you my boy!"

Harry closed the door behind him and automatically stretched his hand to receive a cordial handshake. He was stunned beyond reason. Why was he here at two in the morning? Something must have happened…

_Oh god! Something did happen. Oh god. Not Ron! Not Ron…and not Ginny. Nothing happened to them. If something bad had happened, Mr. Weasley would not be smiling and asking me about the raid right now. It's nothing bad, no one is hurt. But something important happened because he's here at this hour. Calm down Potter. Focus on what he's saying and don't jump to conclusions. Nothing bad happened. Ron is alright._

"So," Mr. Weasley was saying, "good job about tonight. Are you okay Harry? You look a bit pale."

He could not hold back any longer. "I'm sorry Mr. Weasley, but is everything okay back home? I mean, you wouldn't be here at this time unless something was wrong."

Mr. Weasley took off his glasses and cleaned them. "You're right. Something happened tonight, but it isn't as bad as you think. On the contrary, you'll be in for a well… shock."

Harry waited impatiently. The eerie feeling that haunted him before returned. Mr. Weasley replaced his glasses and said, "I wanted you to know before it makes it on international news. It's about Hermione."

Harry frowned and ignored the familiar guilty ache in the pit of his stomach. "What about Hermione?" Even speaking her name caused him grief.

"I think you should sit down."

"What about Hermione?" he repeated in a forceful tone.

Mr. Weasley looked him square in the eye and said. "She's alive."

Harry almost snorted but remembered it was Mr. Weasley he was talking to, not his twin sons. He would never pull a prank like this. Come to think of it, neither would Fred and George.

"Alive?"

Mr. Weasley nodded slowly, holding his gaze. "Alive as in breathing, walking and," he chuckled, "arguing with Ron as we speak."

Harry could not speak. He blindly reached for a chair and sat down while Mr. Weasley began his tale.

"How?" he asked when Mr. Weasley quiet. He shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I'm not going to lie to you Harry. I am delighted that Hermione is not, well, dead but I can't help feeling that something isn't right about all this."

Harry nodded slowly while his mind tried to grasp the idea of his best friend… back from the grave; for lack of a better phrase.

"Well, a few things could have happened. A Death Eater disguised as a Healer could have faked her death since she was already in a coma. But then why keep her alive and set her free after she woke up?"

"Terry Boot suggested that it may be an excuse for you to come back to England."

"Well, it worked."

Mr. Weasley glanced at him swiftly. "You can't go back home. If what Terry says is true then it'll be very dangerous, not only for you, but also for Ron and Hermione."

Harry stood up. "Hermione is alive. I have to see her."

"No, you can't. She has Ron. You know he'll take care of her. It's too dangerous Harry."

Harry wanted to shake the man he thought of as a father-figure for years. _Hermione is my best friend! Like hell you're going to stop me from seeing her. I have to talk to her, and patch things up with Ron. Maybe now he'll forgive me._

"I'd like to see you try and stop me, Mr. Weasley," said Harry in a low stern voice. Unfortunately, it did not have the desired effect because Mr. Weasley smiled sadly. Harry saw the pain and regret in his eyes and immediately felt ashamed. He started to apologize but Mr. Weasley stopped him.

"Harry, I really do understand and I promise you'll be able to see her very soon. However I need a favor from you. Remember you said there were a few ways in which Hermione could have been alive all this time? Do you have any other ideas?"

A new voice filled the room. "There's another way."

Harry whirled around and saw Sarah closing the door behind her. "I came to see if you went to the med-witch and I overheard a piece of the conversation," she said apologetically to Harry. She shifted her attention to the Minister of Magic. "Sorry for interrupting the discussion sir, but Harry doesn't know anything about Dark Magical Practices."

Mr. Weasley smiled gently. "I take it you're his partner?"

Harry glared at her before saying. "Yes, my very nosy partner, Sarah. She can't keep her nose out of my business."

"Shut up Potter," she snapped after shaking Mr. Weasley's hand and rounding on him, feeling slightly offended, "you don't know a rat's ass about Dark Wizards, only how to catch them. Your friend, Hermione, isn't it? You'd better hope she was really kidnapped otherwise there'd be hell to pay."

"Why?" the two men asked.

Sarah began, "There are rituals to raise the dead but they can't be performed by anyone. Only a Necromancer can do it."

Mr. Weasley paled and shifted nervously. "I thought they did not exist."

"They exist alright, but there aren't many and no one can find them unless you call on them, and even then, they might not show to do your bidding."

Harry frowned. "What's a Necromancer?"

"They are basically Dark Wizards with a special ability to take lives in colorful ways, and animate the dead. That means they can bring the dead back to life and control them."

"Holy shit," Harry muttered while Mr. Weasley asked, "How would you know if that happened?"

"Well, the grave site will indicate if the ritual was performed and the residues of the spells might linger for a while. Then there's the person herself. Usually, Necromancers raise the dead without their souls."

The blood in Harry's veins turned cold. _Please say Hermione has her soul._

"Hermione has her soul," Mr. Weasley stated firmly.

Sarah bit her lip. "Are you sure? You can tell by her eyes."

"I know, I know. The light is there, just like before."

_Thank god! The eyes really are the windows to the soul._ "So, it's safe to say that Hermione did not rise from the grave, right?"

Sarah looked thoughtful. "There are rumors that Necromancers might have the ability to put a person's soul back into its body. It's a rumor and a rather far-fetched one at that, because once a person looses his soul no one knows exactly where it goes. Theoretically, there are many places where people believe that their souls will pass onto when they die but no one really knows. That's why it's a far-fetched rumor. The best thing to do is to investigate the grave site."

Harry spoke up. "Well then, let's look for the residual energy. They'll be able to tell us the types of wands they used -."

"No, Necromancers don't use wands Harry," Sarah cut him off, "they are very, very, very powerful Wizards. They don't need wands. They can focus their magic with their eyes."

Harry scratched his head. "If they're so powerful why didn't Voldemort recruit them?"

"Don't you get it Harry? They're more powerful than Voldemort! Let's say he knew about their existence but even then he might not have done anything because he would know better than to disturb them with something as trivial as taking over the world. Necromancers hold the power of life over death in their hands."

He held up his hands in surrender. Mr. Weasley spoke, "We might have to rule out the Necromancers. I stopped by her grave before coming here. Nothing has changed and there's nothing suspicious either, if you count that it looks the same as before. Besides, she has her soul and there's no one powerful enough to summon them."

Sarah nodded. "I agree with you, sir."

"The reason I said that is because tonight, a Healer and two Muggle priests were murdered in Knockturn Alley."

Harry and Sarah exchanged shocked looks. "Muggle priests?" Sarah echoed, while Harry exclaimed, "A Healer?"

"The priests were burned from the inside, and the Healer was identified as the one who pronounced Hermione's death."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Someone killed the Healer who treated Hermione in St. Mungo's? What the bloody hell is going on? So, that's why you think it's a kidnapping."

Mr. Weasley nodded. "There's more. That same Healer was last seen with Hermione and then he disappeared for over a year. No one knew where he went and he was untraceable. Tonight, he shows up dead and Hermione is alive with a swiped memory."

He reached into his pockets and pulled out two pieces of parchment. "I got this from the Head Healer. It shows here the times and dates that particular Healer tended to Hermione. You see it goes on for two days straight then stops. That was when he disappeared but no one noticed anything. I don't know how that's possible."

Harry nodded. "He must have had help. To take her away from St. Mungo's another Healer had to help him or someone with rank there so, even if he was seen with her, no one would question him."

Sarah asked, "Are we assuming that Hermione managed to escape from the kidnappers?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "I think someone brought her there at that specific time because that person knew Ron would be there to find her."

Harry glanced at Mr. Weasley. "If you figured it was a kidnapping, why did you ask about the Necromancers?"

"Someone suggested I keep my options open."

"Hang on, why are two Muggle priests in our world? Where do they fit in?" Sarah asked.

"Well, we assume they were meeting the Healer when they were attacked," Mr. Weasley replied.

"Muggle priests meeting the Healer who 'killed' Hermione…" he shook his head in confusion. "But, why that dodgy place?" _Nothing makes sense. Why will Muggle priests come into our world to meet a Healer in Knockturn Alley? Why are Muggle priests involved in the first place? This is unbelievable!_

Mr. Weasley reached into his pockets and pulled out a picture for them to see. "This is one of the priest's robes. There wasn't much left of their bodies."

"Oh my god," Sarah said softly. She looked at the two men with wide frightened eyes. "These aren't ordinary priests. They're Vatican Cardinals."

After Mr. Weasley left, Harry sat patiently and allowed Sarah to clean his wounds. Neither of them spoke much. Harry was torn between Mr. Weasley's request and his desire to see his friends. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Mr. Weasley was right. The best thing would be to investigate Hermione's 'kidnapping' and find out how the Vatican was involved. That meant a quick trip to Rome.

He sighed. He wanted to see her badly. He considered taking an emergency Portkey to St. Mungo's with his Invisibility Cloak to pay her a visit until he remembered that one of the Aurors guarding her will be Mad-Eye Moody who will be able to see him through the cloak. A Glamour Charm would be risky and he might not be able to get close to her room in a disguise.

Sarah glanced up and noticed his sad face. "You'll see her soon, don't worry."

"Yeah I guess," he automatically replied.

She cleared her throat nervously. "So, this Hermione, was she your girlfriend back home? You left because she died in the War?"

He shook his head. "No. She was more like my sister, always nagging me about studying and rule-breaking and taking care of me. Actually, she's more like an older sister even though she's a few months younger." He laughed fondly at the Hogwart's memories playing in his head.

"She fancies Ron, my other best friend. They were always having a go at each other."

"What?" Sarah asked puzzled, "'having a go at each other'?"

Harry grinned. "I forgot. You're American; you don't understand the delicate English language invented by us Brits. OUCH!" Sarah poked him hard with her wand. "Bloody hell woman!"

She smirked. "Sorry. I forgot British men are also delicate all over."

"No we're not!" he protested hotly.

Sarah stood up laughing. "All done." She leaned against the nearby desk and watched as he ran a finger along his eyebrow. "You were saying something about your friends. And please, use American English."

"They argued a lot. Anything would set them off, and I mean anything. You should see them Sarah. It drove me bloody crazy at times until I realized it was their form of fore-play."

She crinkled her nose. "Fore-play? That's gross."

He laughed again. "They're made for each other." His smile faded. "Ron lost himself when she died."

Sarah let him sit in silence for a while before asking the question that plagued her mind since the day she met him. "Did you have anyone special back home then?"

_Ginny._

"Not really," he replied, standing up and stretching. He really did not want to have a conversation about her right now. "Here's the plan: we get some sleep and meet this afternoon. We'll deal with Seth later. I want to focus on this first. Oh! Someone will have to inform the Ministry in Rome about our investigation, and since you're Muggle-born you'll do it."

"You're lying," she said simply. Harry groaned. "What's her name?"

"Forget it Sarah," he said sharply and walked away.

Sarah watched as he slammed the door shut.

Harry arrived home in a jumble of nerves. He always felt like that whenever he was forcefully reminded of Ginny. Even after all these months she still made his heart race and his legs weak with just a mere thought. He hated the vulnerability she invoked but a part of him welcomed it because it made him feel alive, almost human again.

He moved effortless through the darkened flat as he stripped off his clothes and left them lying on the floor. He stepped into the shower and allowed the hot water to ease his aching muscles. If he closed his eyes, she would be there, smiling, laughing sometimes frowning, but she was there.

He did not deserve her; hell, he didn't even deserve the memories etched in his skull but he needed her so much it hurt his very existence. He had to see her. Maybe he could take a Portkey to her place; no one would know. He did it countless times before.

_No! Don't do it. You'll end up hurting yourself even more like when you first saw her snogging Terry Boot the same way she did to you._

Ginny…

Every night he wondered if she ever thought about him or was she too busy with her studies or fucking Terry to care. Then again, why should she? He left her without any explanation; he left her on that cold night to wake up to an empty bed, he left her wondering and hoping against all odds he would return. She had every right to move on.

_No she was supposed to wait for me. Didn't she understand what I was going through, that I needed my some time away from everyone?_

Harry gripped his hair and squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he focused on something else she would not haunt his thoughts. Yeah, that's it. Think about Hermione.

He groaned when he felt another headache building. Hermione and Ginny were sent to drive him stark-raving mad. Harry turned off the shower, toweled off and dragged his tired body to bed. He did not bother with clothes because his arms felt like lead.

Harry fell into bittersweet dreams before his head touched the pillow…

_He felt her before he saw her. _

_A warm feeling exploded in his chest and tingly sensations raced over his entire body. Then her strawberry scent enveloped him. He did not move from the middle of the stone floor._

_She came, as quiet as a mouse, and stood next to him. He knew she was looking at him. "Why didn't you say you were coming here?" she asked in a bare whisper._

_"I wanted to be alone."_

_He felt her stiffen. Before she turned around, he tugged at her wrist. Relieved, she sat on his lap and leaned back onto his chest. He buried his hands and face in her silky red hair. It was oddly comforting. Many nights he stayed awake just to see her hair framing her beautiful face as she slept peacefully._

_He moved her hair aside to expose her smooth neck_. _Her breath hitched as she anticipated his next move._

_"Harry," she murmured while he planted butterfly kisses on her sensitive neck. She shivered and grabbed his leg from the fire he stirred in her. She tangled her other hand in his thick black hair._

_He felt her fingers trailing up his leg. His blood boiled with anticipation. He wanted her so badly it hurt. He needed her warm caress to drive the cold, dark thoughts from his mind. She was his light and salvation and he loved her to death._

_She twisted around until she faced him. Her fair, slim legs wrapped around his waist and she gazed into his eyes. He recognized the familiar longing in her brown orbs. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. _

_"I love you Ginny."_

_There, he said it. After all this time he finally managed to speak the words that filled his heart. She smiled and kissed him gently. _

_"I know," she replied._

_"Ginny, promise me something. When the time comes, promise you won't follow me to wherever he is. No matter what you feel or what you see, don't come after me. Stay in the castle."_

_She drew back and studied him. Something flickered in her eyes but it was gone so fast he did not have time to read it. He waited for her to disagree, to argue but it never came. _

_Instead she leaned in closer until her lips were mere inches away from his face. "Make love to me."_

_His pulse quickened. He blinked. He was not expecting that response. She kissed him again._

_"Please Harry. Make love to me all night."_

_He crushed his lips on hers and pulled her tighter in his arms. She whimpered and met his passionate kisses. They devoured each other hungrily. Tongues battled furiously, teeth clashed, hands pulled and pushed at clothing. Body temperatures soared despite the surrounding cold. Words of undying love and promises were whispered on bare skin. His cries of passion mixed with her cries of ecstasy. _

_Over and over again, he found completion in her. All night they became one body and one soul and for those seconds of absolute bliss, he felt as though he could conquer the world. He felt as though he could defeat Voldemort once and for all. _

_As the sun rose in the sky, she curled up next to him. He kissed her head and watched as her eyes fluttered close. At that moment, he realized he wanted a future with her and no one else and this desire fueled him to kill Voldemort. He would survive for her. He could not bare the thought of leaving her alone _

_Before drifting off to sleep he swore he would never again underestimate the power of a woman's love._

"Are you sure you want to leave the others out of this?" Sarah asked as she watched Harry hunt for a clean shirt. She Apparated to his flat the second she received his owl about leaving for Rome.

"Yes, I'm sure. They deserve a break. Besides I want to keep this investigation a low profile."

He picked up a navy blue shirt, sniffed it and flung it back down on the living room floor. He grabbed a black one off the kitchen table but discarded it as soon as he saw disgusting mustard-yellow stain.

_I really need to organize my laundry. I can't find any clean shirts and I have no clean underwear. _

Sarah rolled her eyes. _You need a woman in your life._ "Did you ever consider putting all your dirty clothes in one place; say a corner in the bathroom to save you all this trouble?"

Harry paused and looked at her as though she mentioned a solution to turn lead into gold.

"That a brilliant idea! Thanks!" he flashed a heart-melting grin and did as told.

She waved him away. "What exactly are you going to do when you get to Rome? You can't march into Vatican City and demand answers from the Cardinals, even if they're willing to talk to you."

Harry emerged from the bathroom finally wearing a clean white shirt. He frowned. "Why not?"

"Because Muggles consider it a very sacred and powerful place. They have their own rules and ways of doing things." She stopped because she realized there was no way she could make him fully understand the power the Vatican held over the Muggle world.

"Look Sarah, I know about the Roman Catholic Church and the Pope and all that business because I did grow up with Muggles. Two of their Cardinals were murdered in _our_ world. Are you telling me that they would not talk to us? Aren't Cardinals supposed to be important? You said that they're the Pope's main advisers."

Sarah nodded. "Yes, they also form the College of Cardinals and they elect a new Pope when necessary."

"Which means they're important so, those two will be missed, and the people there will want to know what happened."

Sarah looked thoughtful. "Not necessarily."

Harry stared at her. "You think they'll claim ignorance?"

She hesitated before saying, "No one knows what really goes on behind the walls of the Vatican. Throughout history they've been known to go to great lengths to protect their secrets from any groups or secret societies or brotherhoods against them. They cover their tracks very efficiently. They're like the Christian CIA."

"So, let me get this straight," Harry said slowly, "they'll pretend the Cardinals never existed?"

"Probably. Look, Harry, let the International Department handle the formalities before we go charging off to Rome, okay? That way, they would not kick us out if we have diplomatic rights and jurisdiction. I know you can't wait and I understand you feel like you owe it to your friend Hermione, so at least do this properly and wait a few days."

Harry groaned. "I don't want to wait a few days. I want to get the bastards who took her!"

He paced his living room, looking angrier each minute. Sarah eyed him warily while he muttered under his breath because he knew she was right.

Her patience was waning. There was only so much of his tantrums and brooding she could take. Unlike many of her colleagues, she did not hero-worship Harry Potter. She saw him for who he was: an annoying, self absorbed, prat.

"There must be something we can do instead of twiddling out thumbs until the approval comes through."

Sarah sighed and flexed her fingers. "Well, what about the Death Eaters in Azkaban? They must know something."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I was thinking about that. Lucius Malfoy was Voldemort's right hand; he's bound to know something about Hermione. Mr. Weasley didn't say anything about questioning the Death Eaters though."

"Well, what do you want to do?"

He met her gaze and said softly. "I can't go to England, it'll be too dangerous."

His eyes held such sadness and remorse. He walked over to a nearby drawer, opened it and pulled out a crumpled quill and a piece of yellow parchment. "I thought I had a spare ink bottle."

Sarah rolled her eyes and searched the pockets of her robes until she found a fountain pen. She threw it on the table.

Surprised and slightly amused, Harry asked, "You always walk around with Muggle contraptions in your pockets? Mr. Weasley would love you."

He ignored the death glare she gave him and quickly scribbled a note to Mr. Weasley about interrogating the Death Eaters. He sealed the letter and searched the rafters of the ceiling.

"Hedwig!"

The beautiful, snow-white owl glided silently through the open window and landed on his shoulder. He stroked her soft feathers while she hooted affectionately.

"Take this to the post office. I've left instructions on a separate parchment so they'll know what to do. Don't look at me at like that; I'm saving you a week-long journey to England."

Hedwig hooted again, spread her great wings and took off. Harry watched the fading light swallow her before he said to Sarah, "I still think Rome is the best lead we've got. There's nothing else I can think of, aside from questioning the Death Eaters."

Sarah stood next to him. "All the Death Eaters are in Azkaban, Harry, unless you want to-."

Harry slapped his forehead so hard his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. "Fuck! Why the hell didn't I think of it before! Not _all_ of the Death Eaters got sent to Azkaban!"

Sarah's eyes widened.


	6. Two Steps Forward and Three Steps Back

_Two Steps Forward and Three Steps Back._

It turned out to be very easy to get Draco Malfoy on charges because the blond-haired Slytherin happened to be the financial contributor Seth mentioned, the wizard they intercepted earlier. The problem was getting him to America. Malfoy somehow managed to acquire all his father's assets that were frozen, meaning he could buy his innocence and freedom.

Harry, however, decided to take it a step further. He and Sarah took an authorized emergency Portkey to Romania to the Malfoy Mansion. They landed a few feet away from the Mansion itself. Harry saw Sarah shiver and pull her cloak tighter.

The bleak dawn did not help the unflattering environment. Harry slipped on the wet grass as they made their way up the sloping earth. Monstrous trees hung so low that their drooping branches tickled the back of Harry's neck as he walked past. Everywhere was brown and green: brown for the dirt and tree trunks, and green for the unkempt grass and leaves. No wild flowers grew to add additional colors to the depressing scenery.

Sarah asked, "Why do all bad guys pick the most isolated, ugly, darkest, place to live and build a house that screams 'unfriendly person lives here'?" as she caught herself before she fell. Harry steadied her before continuing and inspecting the mansion.

It extended about four stories high and held a Neo-gothic style mixed with Renaissance style. Harry could see the arches around each window and steeples on the roof extending into the air. The exterior of the mansion was painted dark green, almost black. Leafy vines crept up the front walls and made their way to the windows and disappeared around the sides of the mansion.

Clouds of fog drifted between their legs and wrapped around their bodies. Harry wiped the lens of his glasses and heard Sarah mutter something about vampires before he said, "Okay, let me do all the talking. I went to school with him-."

"This means you both have a history, you both hate each other, and you both almost killed each other. Taking all that into consideration, do you really think I'm going to let you even breathe hard in his presence much less let you do all the talking? Think again Potter. You're in too deep with this one. I'm handling the interview, and I don't want you losing your temper or saying anything sarcastic to set him off. Remember we're professionals, so act like it."

She took off towards the front door without looking back. Harry's lips parted slightly. The corners of his mouth twitched. She reminded him so much of Hermione and Ginny.

He caught her as soon as she rapped on the door with a silver, heavy-looking knocker shaped as a serpent with blazing yellow eyes.

"You know Romania is where there's the highest concentration of vampires," Sarah said casually, but Harry saw her peering into the surrounding shadows, despite the fact that the faint orange glow around them signaled the rising sun.

"Oh," he replied just as casual, "that's good to know. I've meet a couple of female vampires once on a mission. They were…frighteningly seductive and sexy; kind of turned me on."

He kept a straight face when she glanced sideways at him. Just as she was about to grab the knocker again, the door creaked open. A house-elf greeted them.

Sarah smiled politely and said, "Hello. We're here to speak to Draco Malfoy."

The house elf bowed low. "Master is resting and does not wish to be disturbed."

Harry began, "Well, all wishes don't come true, so-," but Sarah spoke over him.

"We're terribly sorry to disturb you and your master but it is very important we speak to him. We're Aurors and we need your master's assistance in solving a case. I'm Sarah Redfield and this is Harry Potter."

The house-elf did a double take at Harry and stared curiously at his blond hair but said nothing. Instead he bowed again and stood aside to let them inside into the vast hallway.

The same arches Harry noticed on the windows were found at the entrance to all the rooms in the mansion but each arch was crafted with a unique complex design that accentuated the rooms. A large, red crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. It was obvious to Harry that the entire mansion was beautifully and carefully decorated despite the haunting outward appearance.

"Didn't I tell you to shut the hell up?" Sarah whispered viciously. Harry scowled but did not answer because the house-elf returned and ushered them into a large living room elegantly decorated with antique furniture and polished wooden floor.

A cold, sneering voice filled the room. "Saint Potter has blessed my house at this ungodly hour."

Draco Malfoy entered grandly through the double doors wearing black silk boxers and matching dressing gown that hung open revealing his firm muscular chest and heavenly body.

He looked at Harry with a sick smile. "I see you've got yourself a new side-kick; a brand new Mudblood to play with."

"Her name is Sarah, and you'd better watch your mouth Malfoy because we're here to arrest you."

"Actually, Mr. Malfoy," Sarah intervened, "we're here to ask you a few questions. We're Aurors from the Ministry of Magic in the USA. There are quite a few questions I would like to ask you, so can we please do this like civilized adults?"

Malfoy puffed out his chest and sneered at her as though she was filth, "Don't speak to me like a child Mudblood. How dare you enter my home and-."

Sarah spoke over him. "Or we can arrest you and take you into custody right now. There are many charges against you, enough for a ten year sentence in Azkaban and I know England is itching to get her hands on you. You are not in a position to argue Mr. Malfoy so I'd suggest you choose your battles wisely."

Harry wanted to laugh at Malfoy's furious face but settled for a satisfied smile. He followed Sarah to the nearest sofa and waited patiently for Malfoy to join them. He gave them one last deadly glare before pouring himself a drink and sitting on a chair.

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy. Let's begin."

Harry let Sarah conduct the interview while he studied Malfoy's rigid posture.

"We are aware of your dealings with the small potion company Potion Mark. Last month, if my memory serves me correct, you paid the company 5000 Galleons, the month before, another 5000 Galleons and the month before that, 10, 000 Galleons, all to a man named Seth. That's a lot of money Mr. Malfoy."

He sipped his drink. "Contrary to what you believe, I'm not stupid. I know it's a lot of my money. I would not just throw it away for something useless." His eyes flicked to Harry who bit back the urge to retort.

"So, you believe you've been giving the money for a good cause?" asked Sarah.

"Of course. It researches new spells and potions for Healing purposes. I believe they are currently devising a new Blood-Replenishing Potion where only one drop is needed, not an entire mouthful."

Harry and Sarah exchanged glances. He did not believe a word from Malfoy's mouth and knew Sarah felt the same. It was time to throw the bait.

"So you are aware of the potion research in the company and you know about all the potions they study, right?"

Malfoy paused. "I have a fair idea."

Harry nodded slowly, leaned back and waited for Sarah to resume the conversation.

"What do you know about the Conficio Potion?"

Harry saw the slight fumble in Malfoy's grasp as he raised the glass to his lips but quickly recovered.

"Nothing. What is it?"

Sarah scrutinized him. "It's the reason Potion Mark got shut down when the company was raided."

Malfoy feigned surprise. "Really? I'm not aware of it. I have other investments at stake that are worth a fortune compared to Potion Mark, so you'll forgive me if I don't seem to take an interest in a small research company."

Sarah leaned forward. "But the amount of gold you paid them begs to differ. Come on Mr. Malfoy, be honest, did you really pay the company itself or the owner? Either way, you're still under investigation."

Malfoy leered at her. "What exactly are you instigating? That I fund a company that brews illegal potions or that I paid off someone to erase all charges in England as a Death Eater?"

"Who did you bribe Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Malfoy's cheeks flushed pink from anger. "Tell me Potter, how's Ginny Weasley?"

A muscle in Harry's jaw twitched.

"I saw her a few weeks ago," Malfoy continued, totally focusing on Harry, "she's all grown up now. I hear she's a Trainee Healer and shagging Terry Boot. Who would ever imagine that Ginny Weasley, who devoted her life to The-Boy-Who-Lived, will be with a loser like Boot? But then again, she was always around losers; she grew up with them."

_Don't rise; he wants you to fly off the handle. Don't stoop to his level. Ignore the slight about Ginny and the Weasleys._

"Do you know why I left jolly old England? Not because I'm hiding like the coward you are Potter. I left because I couldn't stand to see my country run by that blood-traitor who has no sense of ideal or self in him. He brings disgrace to Purebloods everywhere with his stinking love for Muggles and Mudbloods. Do you think he'll leave his wife for one of those filths? I mean, his youngest son was so far up Granger's ass that-."

The last comment trigged the wires in Harry's brains to snap. Anger bubbled to the surface and he ignored the warning looks from Sarah. He jumped off his seat and in three strides faced the man he hated. Malfoy's eyes burned with the same anger and intense hatred. He asked the question that plagued him from the very beginning.

"What do you know about Hermione?"

Malfoy smirked. "Granger's finally dead, isn't she? I always hoped she'd be the one to get killed."

"She's alive, asshole." Harry expected to see the smirk from Malfoy's face disappear but instead it grew bigger.

"Well, then, if she's alive, why are you here? You should be celebrating with the Weasel if she came back last night."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I never said she came back last night."

This time the smirk fell slightly. His cold gray eyes darted to the corners of the room.

"Who took her?"

Malfoy did not reply.

"Who took her? I know she was kidnapped. Who did it?"

No reply.

"Sarah," Harry called, "did you bring any Veritaserum?"

"No, I didn't."

Without warning Harry grabbed Malfoy by the throat and pinned him against the wall. Malfoy gasped and tried to pry Harry's fingers from around his neck but he had a tight grip. He lunged for Harry's throat but Harry increased the pressure around his neck forcing Malfoy to grasp his wrist and dig his fingernails into Harry's flesh. Harry did not budge. He was so angry he did not feel Malfoy clawing at his face or heard Sarah screaming at him.

"I'm asking you again Malfoy, who took her? It happened when she was in St. Mungo's and the Healers said she died but she didn't. She was in something like a coma-induced state. Tell me before I do something I will not regret. Who took her?"

"I…I don't know," he wheezed.

"HARRY! THAT'S ENOUGH! PUT HIM DOWN!"

"Was it Voldemort? Did Voldemort give the order for her to be taken or was it some other Death Eater?"

"It wasn't Voldemort. I don't know who did it!"

He banged Malfoy's head on the wall.

Bright spots appeared before Malfoy's eyes. His face burned and his head felt tight. Spittle ran from his mouth to Harry's knuckles. He saw lines of fury on Harry's face as his mouth twisted in hatred. He knew Harry would kill him without a second thought.

"I'm telling…the truth. I-I don't know…who took her!"

"But you knew she was going to be taken?"

Malfoy struggled to push Harry away. "I overheard some things."

Sarah tried pulling him away by grabbing his shoulders but he did not move an inch.

"What things Malfoy?"

"They took her because-because she was going to be killed. Someone was going to kill her, so they took her. They didn't want her dead."

Harry frowned. "Why not? She's Muggle-born and my best friend, why didn't they kill her?"

Malfoy gasped and tried to breathe deeply. He felt his chest tighten and the blood roaring in his head. "If she was missing, you'll have to go…to go look for her and you'd end up dead. That's all I heard, I swear. I don't know who planned it."

That explained it. Mr. Weasley was right and Harry hated to admit that it was brilliant of the Death Eaters to think of it. In the event Harry did survive defeating the Dark Lord and Hermione went missing, no one knows what might have happened and Harry, with his hero complex would have gone off with Ron and tried to find her, most likely resulting in all their deaths.

"Okay then, what do you know about Conficio Potion?"

Malfoy wheezed again. "It's still in…in early stages. That's all I know about it. It-it's supposed to kill Muggle-borns."

"Last chance, what more do you know about Hermione's kidnapping?"

He banged Malfoy's head again and tightened the grip around his throat. Malfoy sputtered and choked. His face was ruby red.

"PUT HIM DOWN HARRY!"

"Fuck you, Potter, you're…killing me here! I told you, I don't know anything else!"

Harry released him. Malfoy coughed and coughed. He massaged his throat, wiped his mouth and straightened up slowly.

Harry turned around and forced him temper back down, ignoring the murderous glares from Sarah. He heard Malfoy tinker with the glass of whisky.

"You are not to leave this house, until the Investigative Squad arrives." With that Harry walked out of the house and into the crisp morning air. He stood on Malfoy's front porch and willed himself to breathe easily. He acted rashly in there and he knew it. He was no better off now than in fifth year. He knew Malfoy would provoke him, he knew he should have controlled himself, but he didn't.

_He had it coming the way he spoke about Hermione. Since when do I get riled up about that? That's Ron's job!_ Harry chuckled to himself. _Well, he isn't here, so somebody has to do it._ He could not help but recall his years at Hogwarts with his two best friends and the countless times Ron got into serious trouble for defending Hermione's honor. If he wasn't distracted all the time he might have noticed their budding relationship. Of course, Hermione realized it at first because she was a girl and girls tended to be more tuned with emotions and love and all that girly stuff. It flew right over Ron's head and his for that matter.

The door opened and Sarah emerged. She shut the door behind her and made her way towards Harry. The chill began settling so she wrapped her arms around her shoulders. She did not look at Harry; instead she stared out at the miserable landscape. Silent minutes stretched between them until she spoke first.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you come here. This is too much for you."

"No it isn't," he replied sharply.

She sighed heavily and disregarded the conversation for the moment. She pulled out an ancient, rusty pocket watch. "You ready?"

Harry nodded. Sarah activated the Portkey and when Harry felt the tugging behind his navel, he felt strangely relieved.

As soon as their feet touched the ground, they gave their reports to Gordon and Sarah bid him farewell for some much-need rest. She ordered him to do the same and he said he would, but she knew better. She gave him a stern warning about running himself tired and acting on lack of sleep before she left. But Harry could care less about his health. The past several hours produced more questions than answers and got so confusing that it made his head whirl. There was only one man who seemed to be the link. Harry knew if he questioned him now, he'll never hear the end of it from Sarah.

Having made up his mind, Harry strode swiftly to the Holding Cells located on the ground floor. The Headquarters was almost deserted aside from the night shift Aurors. A large, heavy steel door marked the entrance to the cells. Harry pulled out his wand, muttered a password, tapped the place where a door knob is supposed to be and took a step back. With a quiet hiss, the door slid open. As soon as he gave his name and submitted his wand for quick inspection, the door closed and locked behind him.

The guard on duty sat behind a desk reading a dirty magazine. He did not even look up when he heard Harry's footsteps echoing dully throughout the stone-walled room.

"He's in cell 3," said the guard.

Harry nodded as he scanned the room. "Is he asleep?"

"Maybe, he's been quiet for a while."

The ground floor was considerably colder than the rest of the building. All the cells were made of a transparent, hard material that was virtually unbreakable. From the outside, Harry saw Seth lying on the cot in the cell. The remains of his dinner were pushed aside on a tray. He nodded to guard who waved his wand over a panel. The cell door clicked open and Harry stepped inside.

Seth was a thirty three year old wizard with warm brown eyes, brown hair and a young, pleasant face that crinkled slightly whenever he smiled or laughed when Harry first met him. Now, after months of playing hide and seek with America's best Aurors, he turned into a haggard, pale faced wizard with graying hair, a nervous twitch in his left eye and a deep mistrust of others.

He stared at the gray ceiling and folded his arms as Harry approached.

"Where's your partner?" asked Seth.

"Don't know," Harry lied as he conjured a chair to sit facing him.

Seth nodded. "Oh. She was beginning to grow on me." He glanced at Harry before returning his eyes to the ceiling. "Blond doesn't suit you."

"I need to know a few things."

Before Seth could register what was happening, Harry had stunned him, poured the Veritaserum down his throat and then pointed his wand to Seth's chest and muttered, "_Enervate._" His eyes flickered open.

Harry leaned back easily in his chair as though nothing had happened. "Now we trust each other. Did your boss get Draco Malfoy out of his Azkaban sentence?"

"Yes."

Harry frowned. "How and why?"

"He made everything vanish in one night. I don't know how he did it, but he did. He said Draco Malfoy would be useful because he is an ex-Death Eater and has many important connections all over the world because of his name."

Harry knew Seth was right. The only thing the Malfoys were probably good for was their money.

"Okay. What is your boss' name?"

"Jacques Marké."

Harry shook his head. "Jacques Marké doesn't exist. I checked."

"He exists."

"Where is he then? Do you know where he lives?"

"No."

Harry rubbed his neck and exhaled tiredly. He did not notice the perspiration forming on Seth's upper lip.

"Who exactly is Jacques Marké then?" Harry asked inspecting his wand.

"My King," Seth replied.

Harry held back a groan and muttered, "Do you have a Queen as well?"

Unfortunately, he was not expecting Seth's answer, who obviously heard him. "My Queen is not ready to take her place besides my King and fulfill her duties."

The remark rendered Harry speechless. A full minute passed before Harry cleared his throat and said. "What did you just say?"

Seth repeated his statement.

Harry stared at him, obviously intrigued. "Who is she?"

He struggled to reply as his voice was suddenly a bare whisper. Harry leaned forward and was surprised to see beads of sweat dotting Seth's forehead, his eyes glazed and glistening with unshed tears.

_What the hell?_ Harry touched his hand and quickly drew it back. Hot. His hand was hot. Harry actually felt heat rising from his body.

"Do you have a fever or something?" Harry asked but knew fully well this was unlike any fever he ever encountered. Seth tried to talk; instead he grabbed his throat and cried out hoarsely in pain. He looked at Harry as though begging him to do something.

Harry jumped up as Seth's hands flayed wildly, missing his nose by inches. His clothes were dripping wet. Harry stepped backwards until his back touched the wall. Even at that distance he felt the incredible heat emanating from his body. It was as though Seth was on fire.

Suddenly, he remembered the photo of the burnt Cardinals and Mr. Weasley saying they were burnt from the inside. He looked at Seth who writhed on the cot. _Oh shit!_

Panicking, Harry grabbed his wand and a streak of red flew towards the cell doors. They opened immediately and the guard rushed in, his eyes landing on Seth. He moved to help but stopped when he felt the heat.

"What's happening to him?"

Harry did not answer but shouted out a Freezing Charm. White ice shot towards the cot and covered Seth in thick sheets. For a second Harry thought it worked; then, the ice melted quickly into a huge puddle of water.

He tried again, and this time the guard helped but the fire inside Seth was so uncontrollably hot that the ice turned into water the moment it touched his skin. Now the water on the ground began evaporating.

They watched in horror as his skin bubbled and his insides melted. Seth's face twisted as he opened his mouth to scream silently from the pain. The sent of burning flesh and boiling blood churned Harry's stomach. The guard gagged and ran out of the cell to throw up. Harry was rooted to the spot. He tried to flee the dreadful scene but his legs refused to move. It was his body's own way of punishing him.

Rivulets of sweat poured down his back and face. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. Smoke rose from Seth mixing with the already repulsive scent that filled the cell. This time Harry felt bile rising.

A piece of fat sputtered in the air and fell to the floor with a sickening splat, sizzling merrily as it cooked from the surrounding heat. He could not stand the sight any longer. He stumbled out of the cell with his hand clasped firmly to his mouth, but before he could take more than five steps, he retched and everything in his stomach spattered on the floor. Breathing heavily, he wiped his mouth and grimaced when the scent filled his nostrils once more.

He could not go back in there. It became too much for him. He drew his knees up to his chest and buried his head, still breathing as though he just completed a race. He heard the doors opening again and the footsteps and voices of a dozen Aurors answering his summon.

Someone asked him if he was alright. Another wanted to know what the hell happened. He wished he had the answers. He wished he was not sitting in that cold room. He wished he was not even in America. He wished he never even ran away from his fears and instead, faced them like a man.

"Potter, you in there? Are you hearing me? What the fuck happened? Who did this?"

Harry finally looked at the young Auror who helped him to his feet. The question brought him back to his senses. _Who did this? Who possessed this much power to kill someone like that from a distance? Was the murderer even here in the building?_ Harry had a nagging feeling that the person responsible was a million miles away.

_Who the hell held this much power?_

"I don't know," Harry replied absently. Without another word, he left the Holding Cells quickly and avoided as much small talk as possible until he was outside, breathing in the clean, fresh air into his starved lungs.

It was clear from the events within the past several months, there was no denying it: another Dark Lord was on the rise.

Harry closed his eyes briefly and rubbed his temples. The terror Voldemort invoked was still fresh in everyone's mind despite the fact he was destroyed, but everyone was willing to move ahead and pick up the pieces of their lives after the war. England had come a long way. Now, someone else wanted to take Voldemort's place and once again destroy everything the people worked hard to rebuild. It just was not fair. Will evil ever go away?

_No, it won't. It will never stop. Evil will always be around. No matter how hard or how much people try or the sacrifices they have to make, someone always comes around to mess things up. Evil never dies._

That's the unfortunate mentality of the human race: everyone is happy, everything is perfect; the world is in utter chaos but everything is fine…until something terrible strikes close to home. Evil knows this. It knows how naive the human mind works when emotions come into play, so it knows exactly when to attack. Like a sniper, evil sits in the vicinity and waits patiently for that one perfect moment to strike and fiercely devour your mind and body. No one can foresee it. No one can escape its clutches. Only when it tortures you and slowly sucks away your life force, savoring the pain it causes you and your loved ones, then you realize it's too late. The worst part of all is that most of the time, you become too powerless to fight back.

His chest constricted slightly when he thought about everyone back home. He had to warn Mr. Weasley immediately, and disappeared to do just that.

On arriving home many hours later, Harry noticed a small, brown owl waiting patiently for him on the window still. For a second he thought it was Pig, Ron's owl, but closer inspection showed the Ministry's crest around its tiny neck. Harry took the letter from its beak and dropped a few Owl Treats within its reach and then turned his attention to the unmarked letter.

He barely heard the owl take flight as he opened the envelope in the dim light of his flat.

_Harry,_

_I got your owl about the Death Eaters and I sent Terry and Tonks to Azkaban. Unfortunately, no one knew anything. Lucius Malfoy is a shell of a man right now and the only thing they were able to get from him were death threats to his son about his betrayal. Another thing I should mention: it's no use going to Rome. I did my own inquiry and apparently there are no missing Cardinals. A source in the Vatican has assured me that they have no knowledge about the Magical World. I don't know what to make of it. This has gotten very confusing. I think we should all be grateful Hermione is here with us. If this indeed is an attempt to lure you back to England, then I highly recommend you stay in America, at least until a safe period has passed._

_I know you want to see Hermione yourself but there is something you should know. While I was gone, Hermione had an incident involving uncontrollable wandless magic. Her power was so extreme, and according to the Healers, 'did some psychological damage to her mind' that she attacked and almost killed Ron and Ginny and her parents. I'm not sure how she escaped the episode but now she's isolated from everyone and is being kept on Sedative Potions like the Draught of Peace until the Healers can figure out what triggered it. _

_Ron hates the idea of Hermione by herself and fought the Healers every step of the way. You can imagine the towering temper he's in right now because no one is allowed inside the room with her, and she's under constant surveillance. Ginny is trying to get someone to help control her wandless magic. _

_Her parents are an emotional wreck but determined to help Hermione in any way they can. Molly is a mess as well. The Grangers are staying at the Burrow for a while so that, thankfully, is keeping Molly busy._

_No one knows how long she'll be like this. The Healers said it could take months, even years. Ron is prepared to move into St. Mungo's and sleep right outside her door. Nothing I do or say will make him change his mind. He's taking a leave of absence from the Chudley Cannons to stay with her – on the other side of the door._

_You can worry about her Harry, but coming to England will not help in anyway nor will it solve anything. I'm asking you to stay where you are for now. I promise to keep you updated on her recovery. Thank you for all your help, and please extend my gratitude to your partner, Sarah._

_Yours truly,_

_Arthur Weasley._

_Author's Note: Thanks again to my reviewers and everyone who actually read my sad-excuse for a story. _


	7. No Win Situations

_Chapter 6: No Win Situations_

Ginny Weasley sat hunched forward on a chair with her elbows resting on her knees and her fingers clawing at her face while two grown men blatantly ignored her presence. She thought the Healers wanted her around because they asked her opinion about the treatment for Hermione; they asked about her research and that too she presented accurately and efficiently but she could have been talking to damn wall for all they cared because they bypassed every warning she had given them and decided to proceed with Hermione's treatment.

She wanted to throw the chair she was sitting on at them. _Why the hell did you ask if you weren't going to listen?_ Ginny did not care that she was a Trainee Healer. She would make sure those two arrogant bastards did not inflict further damage to Hermione's mental state.

Ginny glowered at them through her slender fingers and twisted her face in disgust. _Who do they think they are?_ Standing there, tall and proud in all their freaking glory, looking important and sophisticated while discussing their patient's delicate state. Ginny rolled her eyes. _Oh please._

"Miss Weasley."

Her demeanor changed abruptly at the sound of her name. She stood up and faced the Healers with a grace of wide-eyed innocence. She applauded herself silently.

"Yes sir?"

The Head Healer addressed her. "Healer Johnson says you're against this treatment."

Ginny did not hesitate in her answer but chose her words carefully. "I never said I was against it, sir. I'm against the time."

The Head Healer, Healer Smith smiled coldly. "Yes, you think it's too early to start the Memory Retrieval Treatment. When do you think the right time will be Miss Weasley? Two days. Three days, a week or a month?"

Ginny noticed his taunting sarcasm and chose to disregard it. She knew she had to keep a leveled head because losing her temper to this…jackass will not help anything, especially her career. But at the same time she would never let anyone walk over and standing up for herself and forcing her voice to be heard was something she learnt with six older loud-mouthed brothers. This jackass will be no exception.

"Hermione is emotionally and mentally distressed right now. If you start the treatment when she is clearly not ready to handle her repressed memories then she may never recover or remember anything. The worst thing that could happen is that she remains locked inside her head with Merlin knows what and she runs a very high risk of doing just that. You already have her isolated from everyone and I said that is isn't a good idea; and I'm right! Just look-."

"You're right?" he repeated.

_Oh great!_ Now she had his undivided attention. _Well you wanted it from before, didn't you?_ Ginny groaned under her breath. Healer Johnson shook his head slightly.

He looked at her as though she was covered in filth. "You're right? I'm the Head Healer and my decisions are never questioned, especially by a Trainee. The Minister of Magic put me in charge of Miss Granger's well being and given your emotional attachment to the patient, you should be grateful that I allowed you to oversee her."

He stepped closer. Ginny clenched her jaw. His eyes flashed with anger and he continued in a low voice. "I don't care that you're daddy's girl, Miss Weasley, but if you ever question my judgment or abilities I'll have you out of the Trainee Program."

Her control was slipping. Her face flushed furiously as the infamous Weasley temper got the better of her. She did not know what was worse: being spoken to like a stupid little girl or having her intelligence insulted.

Unfortunately, Healer Jackass was not finished. He removed two sheets of parchment from his pocket and shoved them into her hands.

"These are the papers you will be taking to Miss Granger's parents for them to sign so we can begin the Treatment this afternoon. Convince them to sign because if they don't, then you can rethink your career choice."

He brushed past Healer Johnson and left Ginny to curse his existence under her breath. "That pompous arrogant jackass," she whispered vehemently as she flung the parchments down on a nearby coffee table, "he can give Percy a run for his money." She turned to Healer Johnson for his approval. Instead he frowned slightly and did not seem very pleased.

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you agree with …_that jackass…_him!"

He held up his hands in surrender before she unleashed her fury. "Ginny calm down please. It's no use losing your temper. Yes, you're right about Miss Granger but you have to know your place. You can't accuse the Head Healer of-."

Ginny snarled in aggravation. "Okay fine! I know and I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. Excuse me, I have to get the Royal Highness his signatures." She pocketed the papers and walked away before the Healer could say more.

She clenched her fists and quickened her pace in hopes of burning the excess energy caused by her anger. Merlin! She needed to vent on someone. She needed to blow up on something. The jackass was out of the question, Ron was too sick with worry over Hermione and she did not have to heart to pick on him. The rest of her brothers were far away.

Ginny gritted her teeth as she made her way to the corridor leading to Hermione's room to find the Grangers. Harry would be the perfect candidate to… _No! Stop! Don't think about that useless prat!"_

"Ginny!"

She looked up. It was Terry; always Terry. She smiled and felt herself relax as he drew closer. How could she have forgotten him? Terry, who managed to appear at exactly the right times; Terry who sang off-key Weird Sisters songs in the shower to make her laugh; Terry who held her in his arms for two days when she was too sick to move.

Terry. Not Harry.

He pulled her against him and she sank into his warmth.

She heard his voice rumbling in his chest. "It's one in the morning and your shift ended four hours ago. Why aren't you at home resting?"

Ginny did not answer. She heard him sigh. He released her gently, titled her chin up and brushed her lips.

"You looked in a right rage when I saw you," Terry said, "everything all right?"

This time she sighed and told him everything that just happened. Her anger resurfaced. "I can't believe he didn't listen," she finished to an attentive Terry.

"Why don't you mention in to your dad?"

Ginny scoffed. "So, he'll think I'm running to dear old daddy? Absolutely not! That got me so furious. He thinks I'm here because of my father and not because if me. I worked hard to get here; he should know that, the bugger accepted me."

"Okay Gin, I know you're hacked off but right now it's not about you, it's about Hermione and what's best for her. I suggested going to your dad because he knows you have Hermione's best interests at heart which means he'll listen. Forget Healer Smith. Focus on what you're supposed to be doing."

Ginny gazed at him in wonder. "Since when did you become the wise one?" she teased and leaned into him again.

Terry grinned and kissed her cheek. "I'm always the wise one, you're the hot tempered irrational one, remember?"

"Bite your tongue," she said, "I'm not irrational, just hot tempered."

"Okay, only hot-tempered. What else is bothering you?"

She shifted slightly as the images she last saw of Hermione flooded her mind. "I hate that she's alone," Ginny said softly, "they have her isolated because they think she's a threat, but when I went to see her earlier tonight… I hated it because it scared me. I've never seen Hermione this way and I never want to again."

"What way?" Terry prodded gently.

Ginny let her tears fall. "Have you ever seen Hermione helpless? I've always known her to be strong, passionate and determined, even intimidating. But today when I walked into that room, the girl lying on the bed wasn't her. It was a shell of a girl. There was nothing, not even a glimpse of the way she used to be. She was just there looking lost and empty and… soulless, if that's possible."

"Come on, you should sit down," Terry gently led her to a nearby chair but she immediately pushed away from him as though burnt.

"I don't want to sit down!" she shouted. Several passing Healers and a few of Terry's colleagues looked curiously in their direction. Ginny did not notice because she continued glaring at him as though he was responsible for her tears.

Terry recognized the warning signs to a good, long rant. He grabbed her arm and ushered her into am empty, private room.

"What are you doing?" Ginny yelled, pulling free from his grasp while he shut the door. Her chest heaved with each deep breath she took. She itched to lash out at him, to make him feel exactly how powerless she felt because she could not help her friend and how much it killed her to see her brother's heart breaking from being separated from his one true love and best friend.

The sad expression on his face assured her that he shared her pain. Ginny lowered her gaze and hastily wiped the tears away, feeling ashamed of her outburst. She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the white wash floor. Terry knelt down until they were at eye level and held her hands.

She sniffed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"Why do you put up with me?"

He smirked. "I'm addicted to your hair and lips."

Ginny rolled her eyes but smiled affectionately. Terry kissed her knuckles before saying, "I know this is hard for you and that makes it hard for me as well. Hermione is my schoolmate and one of the most brilliant witches I've ever met. I admire and respect her so picturing her the way you described is really hard to do; and the thought makes me ill inside. I feel the same, Gin, except you'll feel worse because of Ron."

Tears sprung in her eyes again at her brother's name. "He hasn't been to practice in weeks," she said, "if he's not careful they'll put him back to reserve Keeper after he worked so hard to get the position. He doesn't even want dad to help him or anything. He keeps saying he'll deal with it as soon as Hermione gets better. He hasn't moved much, he's afraid she'll disappear if he isn't near her door. That's another thing I'm against. Smith has her isolated."

Terry interrupted. "That wasn't all Smith's idea. The Aurors thought it was best."

"What?" Ginny asked in disbelief.

"Mad-Eye suggested it," Terry quickly explained, "to keep everyone safe incase she had another episode."

Ginny closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. "The isolation is making Hermione worse. I tried telling Smith that but he refused to listen. He hasn't been to see her lately so I don't understand why he thinks he knows what's best for her! She needs human contact. She needs Ron and Ron needs her."

At this point she started getting hysterical. "Don't they see that? She's wasting away in that damn room and now they want to start bringing back her memories when she's not ready to handle…"

Ginny finally succumbed to the mounting pressure and broke down in Terry's arms. It was all too much for one person to take.

She did not remember agreeing when Terry said he'd take her home and she did not even remember Flooing there. All she knew was that she did not want to be alone and had asked him to stay the night, or what was left of it. He hesitated before saying she needed to rest as much as possible but Ginny saw the hunger flicker in his eyes, even thought it was gone in a second. She saw it and recognized it because she felt it as well; the tingling sensations creeping down her back, the goosebumps on her skin and the stifling tension in the room. She wanted it as much as he wanted her.

Two days. They had not touched each other in two long days. The appraising looks and quick kisses at St. Mungo's did nothing to alleviate her needs. Sexual frustration coupled with the stressful working environment drove her crazy. Her exhaustion disappeared when Terry's eyes darted to her lips and glazed over with desire. She licked them and saw, to her satisfaction, he swallowed nervously.

"Terry," she said softly. He dragged his eyes upwards, "please stay with me."

He nodded slowly and said with much difficulty, "I'll stay on the couch. You need sleep Ginny."

She shook her head. Sleep was the last thing in her mind. Pent up desires and temptations erupted inside and overtook her brain. Without thinking, she pulled off her robes and dropped them on the ground revealing a light sweater and knee-length skirt. She dug her fingers under the hem of the sweater, intent on peeling it off her skin when Terry moaned. "Ginny, don't."

Exactly how they reached the bed in a tangle of naked limbs was a blur but she did not care as long as he kept kissing her, driving all the negative feelings away. And he was doing a damn good job of it.

He laid her gently on the bed and trailed wet kisses down her neck. His tongue swept away each dark thought that plagued her. She groaned when his hands crawled slowly up her thigh and she felt his hot arousal pressing against her stomach. The fire inside her blazed with such lust and impatience that she cried out. She moved her hips against his to heighten the pleasure and felt sparks shoot directly to her centre.

Her patience was waning. She wanted release and she wanted it now. As though sensing her desire, Terry continued to worship her body, quickly making his way further down.

Part of her felt guilty. Somewhere Hermione was fighting for her sanity while Ron was already insane with worry, but here she was, silently begging her boyfriend to…

"Oh god," Ginny half cried, half moaned as Terry began loving her with his fingers and mouth. She squeezed her eyes tightly from the blissful shivers running throughout her body and pooling at her centre. She interlocked her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer to her.

Merlin! Guilt never felt this fucking good.

He increased his pace causing her to fist the sheets, throw her head back and buck violently. Her copper red hair fell down her shoulders and all around the pillow making her look like a sex goddess. Whimpers turned to throaty moans as his skilful tongue worked her to her climax.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she climbed steadily to her peak. She was vaguely aware of Terry grabbing her legs as she writhed and trembled as her orgasm overtook her. Something exploded deep inside her and Ginny screamed as she found release.

Before she could control her breathing, she felt Terry slide inside her. He brushed a tendril of hair from her face and kissed her lightly. She opened her eyes and saw such love and adoration in his eyes that her heart fluttered and it left her even more breathless. Ginny shifted making him stifle a moan.

"I love you," he whispered before kissing her passionately. Ginny returned his kisses with equal fervor, and soon, they were moving in a perfect rhythm. She poured out all her remaining frustrations and despair into her love making as another form of release. She matched him, stroke for stroke, as he sought his own release.

Twenty minutes later when Ginny fell into deep sleep, Terry rose from the bed and dressed quietly. He charmed the alarm clock to wake her in four hours, picked up her clothes and hung them on the bathroom door. Before he left for his Auror shift at St. Mungo's he gave her a somewhat dejected look and kissed her goodbye.

Her sour mood began as soon as Ginny woke up to a cold, empty bed. She scowled and buried her head under the pillow. He left her. The bloody git left after a good round of fucking. How the hell could he do that when he knew that she needed him?

The alarm clock interrupted her thoughts. _Oh how sweet of him to set the alarm._ She grabbed her wand and waved it over the clock. It fell silent immediately. She threw the covers off and swung her feet onto the surprisingly tidy floor.

"What the hell?" she muttered as her toes hopped on the clothes free ground. Her brown eyes swept to the bathroom door. She rolled her eyes and ignored the warm glow inside her when she saw her clothes piled neatly there. She rose from bed and walked into the kitchen, not even bothering with her dressing gown.

The kitchen was spotless because she barely used it. She charmed the water in the kettle to boil as she made coffee the Muggle way because she preferred the natural taste as opposed to the bland, magical one. Besides, she never got the knack of making coffee from her wand. As she waited on the water, her thoughts returned to her boyfriend.

_Just because he picked up my clothes doesn't mean he can get off for free. He still left._

_Maybe he had to work. His shift must have started._

_So, why didn't he leave a note?_

_He was in a hurry. You know he wanted to stay with you. His job is just as demanding as yours. _

_He could have left a note._

_You're being self-centered, Weasley._

"Shut it," she mumbled, massaging her head. Conscience is a bitch, no doubt about that. When the water was ready, she poured it into the cup and inhaled the rich coffee scent. She allowed herself three mouthfuls before she cast a Heating Charm over the cup, left the kitchen and headed to the shower.

As the hot water poured down her back she tried to organize her thoughts, but memories of Terry's hands and lips haunted her. Merlin, what she would give for him to be right next to her, dripping wet, tasting her with his tongue the same way he did last night.

Ginny groaned and tried to block out the images. _Concentrate, concentrate. First thing I need to do is to talk to Hermione's parents and convince them to sign the parchment._

Terry kissing her slowly but deeply.

_Then, I have to take them to Smith and get his signature._

They made love in the shower before. Many times actually, she lost count. It was quick and convenient; hot shower and hot sex. It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase: kill two birds with one stone.

_Smith signs and give the orders to move Hermione, I'll just make sure everything is done properly._

Hot sex would be ideal right about now. The tingles started again and this time she did not fight them. Ginny closed her eyes and let her thoughts take over as her hands found that perfect spot. Before she could stop herself, brown hair and brown eyes turned into black hair and clear, green eyes.

"_This will help Hermione?"_

"_In some ways, Mr. Granger. It will help regain her memories."_

"_But what if she doesn't want to remember? There's a reason she doesn't and I don't think she should be forced to."_

"_Will it hurt her Ginny?"_

"_It's difficult to say, Mrs. Granger. She's not very responsive at the moment so if she was in any pain, no one will be able to tell. But I can guarantee you that it would not put her life in jeopardy._

"_My baby might be in pain and no one will know?"_

_Ginny hesitated. This was not the route she wanted to take. "It should help her in the long run. Remembering what happened and accepting the memories are the first steps to healing and moving on. In the end, Hermione will have a normal, happy future."_

_The Grangers looked at each other. Ginny sensed their exhaustion and desperation for this nightmare to be over._

_Mr. Granger asked, "Is there any information about this Treatment I can read before I make my decision?"_

_She shook her head. "It's just a combination of different strengths of the best Memory Retrieval Potions. The Potion acts directly on the brain in the particular area where memory is stored and somehow allows it to re-surface."_

_"Somehow?" Mr. Granger echoed, "No offense Ginny, you don't sound very sure."_

_She forced a smile. "It's magic, Mr. Granger. It has never failed before."_

_Mr. Granger scowled. "Magic. Magic is what got her into this mess in the first place. I don't like this. Why can't we take her to get professional help from real doctors?"_

_Mrs. Granger wrapped her hand around her husband's arm. She looked at her and asked, "Do you think it's the right thing to do Ginny?"_

_She swallowed. "Yes I do," she said feebly._

_Mrs. Granger smiled and reached for the quill. "Then we have nothing to worry about."_

Ginny walked away feeling lower than she ever did in her life. Was she that anxious to keep her job? She downright lied to Hermione's parents…nope, not lie; more like avoided the truth. They trusted her, they trusted her to be honest with them; they trusted her with their only daughter's life and after what happened, that trust was as precious as a rare gem. Or so she wanted to believe. She felt tension building right above the bridge of her nose and knew a headache was not far along.

With the papers tucked safely inside her robes, Ginny marched to Healer Smith's office. She paused outside his door to compose herself before knocking. Voices on the other side of the door made her pause and lean closer. She recognized Smith's voice arguing with someone. Ginny pressed her ears against the door, silently wishing for an Extendable Ear. The voices rose again and this time she realized who the other one belonged to.

"Dad?" she whispered. _What are they arguing about?_ The one time she heard her father raise his voice was when Percy decided to be an arrogant prat and abandon his family.

Ginny caught the words 'secret', 'prophet', and 'owls'. _Well, there's only one way to find out._ She knocked on the door. The voices ceased abruptly and the door flung open to reveal a red-faced Healer and an angry Minister of Magic.

She pretended to be surprised. "Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were busy, sir. I'll come back later."

"Is there something you want Weasley?" he asked gruffly. Behind him, Mr. Weasley greeted her.

"I have the Grangers' signatures." Ginny held the parchments out to him.

"Good. We'll begin this afternoon. Make sure she's ready."

"Now wait just a minute," Mr. Weasley said, "You're not going to continue this, are you? Not after what I just told you."

"Mr. Weasley," Smith said, forgetting Ginny's presence, "it's my responsibility to ensure the well-being of all the patients at St. Mungo's. I will not be intimidated by a group of nosy reporters."

"But surely you know that the leak came from someone inside St. Mungo's!"

"I trust each Healer, and I guarantee that no one opened his mouth to the Daily Prophet. Maybe you should look at the small army of Aurors you stationed here that are intent on disrupting the delicate stability I have worked so hard to maintain."

"My Aurors are doing their job Smith," Mr. Weasley almost shouted, "their job is to protect Hermione at all costs, and they are doing just that. I've told you this before. Now, I want to know who told the Daily Prophet about Hermione."

Ginny gasped. The two men looked at her. Her father sighed and motioned her inside. She quickly obeyed, ignoring Smith's livid expression.

"Arthur, I don't think this is wise--."

"She's my daughter," Mr. Weasley said in a tone that left no room for further discussion.

"Dad, what's going on?"

"Someone revealed to the Daily Prophet that Hermione's alive."

_Someone revealed to the Daily Prophet that Hermione's alive. We're trying to figure out where it came from, so keep this to yourself and do not, under any circumstances, tell Ron._

She hadn't seen Ron in almost twenty four hours. He was either pacing in front of Hermione's door or trying to sleep in the visitor's lounge. She did not want to see him, she was not ready. Ginny glanced at her watch. Nearly time. Could she do this? Could she face her brother with a cool, collected smile and talk to him as though nothing was wrong; as though the Daily prophet was not trying to gain access to St. Mungo's to determine whether the rumors about Hermione were true, or that their father was not warding off dozens of owls on the matter?

Her headache grew steadily.

Ginny walked through the crowded corridors, all the way to the lift, to Hermione's room. Several Healers greeted her and she smiled politely in return. She gave the order for Hermione to be moved to the Observation Room. It was a lot bigger than the one she currently stayed in and it was equipped with everything needed to monitor a patient from a suitable distance. What might Ron think?

Could she look him in the eye and not tell him anything?

Could she?

Hell, she almost lied to Hermione's parents about their daughter's treatment so she could keep her job, so this should be a piece of cake.

Right?

The headache spread across her forehead and seemed to enjoy focusing its attention on her eye muscles. _Bloody buggering hell._

As she came off the lift, she saw Terry in deep conversation with Tonks. Ginny changed her mind: it was Terry she really did not want to see. She quickened her pace. He noticed her hasty retreat because he was at her side in seconds.

"What do you want?" she hissed, "I'm really busy, so I don't have time to waste on you."

He looked confused. "What's wrong with you?"

She continued walking but Terry caught up with her again. "Are you going to tell me why you're acting like a bitch do I have to wait until you decide to come around?"

Ginny whirled around and almost slapped him. "How dare you?" It was okay for him to leave her but it wasn't okay for her to get upset. _Or act like a bitch_.

Before she could continue, he said quietly, "I thought you'd be in a better mood after last night. Isn't that what you wanted, Ginny? Someone to help you scream your frustrations away the way you did last night."

Her face was bright red from his last statement. She took a step back and glared at his smugness. _Fucking bastard_. "I don't need help when I can do it a lot better myself," she said with poisoned sweetness and walked away, leaving him open-mouthed. Unfortunately she did not have time to relish her victory because once again, he got over her remark quickly and was in front of her again.

"Will you please tell me what I did wrong?" he asked, the both of them trying to prevent a scene.

She stopped. "Nothing Terry, you didn't do anything wrong. You're perfect, remember? I'm the one acting like a bitch."

He almost growled. "For god's sake Ginny, will you stop it? I'm sorry I can't read your mind, okay? Otherwise, I'd -."

"You can read every Dark Wizard out there but you can't tell what's wrong with your girlfriend?"

They stared at each other for a few seconds until Ginny shook her head and left. This time he let her go. She'd worry about him later because right now, she had a job to do. She prayed Ron was not nearby.

Three Healers and two Medi-witches stood at the end of the corridor. One of them was Damien. He smiled when she approached and despite her brief encounter with Terry, she returned the smile.

"Hello," he said, "every time I see you, you look overworked."

"It's my job description," she replied before addressing the rest of them, "Is Her-the patient in the Observation Room?"

They nodded. "It was easy," a Medi-witch said, "not a peep from her."

"Everything is ready," Damien assured her.

"Even the Potions?"

He nodded. "Courtesy of the company, Potion Mark."

Ginny nodded. "Good, good. Everything is ready. Smith and the others will be here any second so they can start. Thanks for all your help everyone."

They left. Damien hung back clearly hoping to have a word with her but she busied herself with Hermione's charts. She really did not want to discuss the upcoming event.

He cleared his throat. Ginny had no choice but to look at him, puzzled.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me the patient in there is Hermione Granger."

"You honestly expected me too," she said half heartedly, wishing he'd go far, far away.

"Well no," he admitted, "but I'm so glad I'm part of the team now. You cannot imagine my surprise when my superior told me!"

Something clicked in her head. She gave him a cold look. "By any chance, you didn't go running to the Daily Prophet now, did you?"

He looked genuinely confused. "No, I didn't. I only found out a half hour ago and since then I've been with the patient. I haven't touched my lunch as yet."

Hurried footsteps and the sound of ragged breathing suddenly diverted her attention. When the person rounded the corner, her heart sank. She closed her eyes and braced for the impact, and just as she expected, his anguished voice filled her head.

"Ginny! Hermione's gone! Her room is empty. Where is she?"


	8. Chapter 8

_Previous Chapter (6)..._

_Hurried footsteps and the sound of ragged breathing suddenly diverted her attention. When the person rounded the corner, her heart sank. She closed her eyes and braced for the impact, and just as she expected, his anguished voice filled her head._

"_Ginny! Hermione's gone! Her room is empty. Where is she?"_

_Chapter 7: Full Circle._

_Ron shouldered his broom and straightened up. The setting sun emitted a deep yellow glow on the Quidditch pitch. The glare was so bright that Ron shielded his eyes as he strode tiredly towards the house. His legs and arms hurt but he felt strangely content with practice. His stomach growled as he neared the back door that lead into his home. He placed the broom gently against the wall, slipped his shoes off and tossed his robes into a corner on the back porch, deciding to pick them up after dinner. _

_He headed straight to the living room because it was the last place he saw his wife, lying on the couch near the fire reading one of her books. But when he looked, the living room was empty. The book, _'What to Expect When You're Expecting – A Witches' Guide' _sat unceremoniously on the floor. _

_Ron frowned. He heard a noise in the kitchen and visibly relaxed. He tip-toed to the kitchen, intent on surprising her, when he stopped to stifle a chuckle. _

_Hermione was sitting on the dinner table shoving spoonfuls of ice cream hungrily into her mouth. Some fell on her swollen stomach. Without missing a beat, she swept it onto her finger and into her mouth. _

"_Hungry, love?" he asked._

_She gasped softly and turned around. The spoon fell on the table with a loud clang. Her face flushed but her eyes narrowed. "Don't sneak up on me like that," she scolded._

"_Sorry," he said grinning. He picked up the spoon, dipped it into the ice cream tub, and waved the ice-cream filled spoon in front her face. She glared at him._

"_Honestly Ron, stop acting childish."_

"_I know you want it," he teased._

_She huffed and rolled her eyes. "I've had my fill, thanks."_

_Ron laughed. "I can see that. You've got ice-cream all over your face."_

_Hermione looked startled. "Where?"_

"_Right here," he leaned forward and gently licked the ice-cream from the corner of her mouth. She giggled. "And here." He did the same to the other side. _

_She sighed. His hands caressed her belly. "Did he put up a great fight while I was out?" he asked._

"_No," she whispered, kissing his face, "he barely moved. Almost forgot he was there."_

_Ron nearly groaned when he saw that look in her eyes. The look that made his knees weak and his heart soar with pure joy. The look she gave him when they were alone. It was the look only meant for him. But he had to control himself. Hermione was eight months pregnant with their first born and he was always scared that something would go wrong. If he did not focus on something else entirely, they would probably make love on the kitchen floor. _

"_Have you gotten any cramps or contractions?" he tore his eyes away and focused on her stomach._

"_I'm fine Ron," she said._

"_But last night--."_

"_Was a fluke," she smiled and twirled his hair in between her fingers. "You're sweaty and you stink."_

_He raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to give me a bath?"_

_She smiled prettily. He bent down and kissed her stomach. He could not believe his son was in there. Their son. He was going to be a father and Hermione a mother. They were going to be parents. He kissed the firm flesh again and rubbed it in lazy circles. She threaded her hands in his hair._

"_Are you hungry?" she asked._

"_Don't worry, I'll make something later. I want you to go upstairs and lie down. You've been on your feet all day."_

_Hermione held out her hand. He helped her to her feet and together, they headed upstairs._

"_Oh Ron, your head is on my Witch Weekly magazine?"_

"_Huh?"_

"Excuse me, but your head is on my _Witch Weekly_ magazine."

"Wha-?"

The dream was still fresh in his mind so when Ron opened his eyes he expected to see soft brown eyes gazing lovingly at him, not light blue ones that belonged to a blonde-haired witch. The girl, dressed in pale pink robes, knocked his feet again. Ron blinked and sat up slowly, wiping his mouth.

"Can I have my magazine back?" she huffed, not caring that she woke him. Still dazed, Ron looked at the magazine he had used as a pillow and handed it back to her. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few more times to clear them.

The girl clucked her tongue. Ron raised his eyebrows and glanced at her with a blank face.

"You didn't have to spoil it," she said, looking daggers at him and holding up the ruined, crumpled cover of a handsome wizard for him to see.

He stood up, stretched and said groggily, "He looks better that way."

The girl gasped as though he told her to do something very inappropriate. Ignoring her, Ron walked to the water fountain and gulped mouthfuls of cold water to quench his thirst. Images from the dream still lingered in his mind. He wanted to hold on to them so badly and harbor a little fantasy in his heart that the dream spoke of their future. A happy future... He wanted it to give him strength to face the present. He needed that strength more and more everyday because he felt himself fading and growing weak with worry and despair.

_Don't think about that. She came back, she's alive, and she's here. Hold on to that. Don't lose focus on what's in front of you._

But what was suddenly thrust in front of him was something he hoped never to focus on. A wizard with a flashy smile, golden wavy hair, sparkling gray eyes and a very straight nose bowed low. He was twirling an outrageous purple feather hat between his long fingers. Ron felt sick just from looking at it.

"How could you say that?" the girl demanded. "He's so gorgeous," she added dreamily.

"A right star," he mumbled and pushed the magazine away. He splashed water on his face.

"You're being rude, you know," she said hotly.

"Do you want something?" he asked harshly taking her by surprise. "No? Well then go away and bother someone who cares." Ron wiped his face with the blankets he slept with, and tossed them aside. They were the only ones in the Visitors' Room. Judging from all the activity outside the room he guessed it was well into the morning.

The girl grabbed a jumper from a chair and walked out. Before she reached the door she turned and said, "You just wish you were half the wizard that he is." Then she left in a huff and almost collided with Charlie Weasley.

"If I was half the wizard he is, I'd be a witch!" Ron shouted after her. _Damn! _If only she had waited for his response, she would have been really ticked off.

"Whoa, what was that about?" Charlie asked as he walked in, holding a brown bag in one arm and a stack of magazines in the other.

Ron wiped his eyes and stood to greet his older brother with a manly hug. "I thought you were coming tomorrow."

"I got off early so I decided to come by and lend a hand, and it's a good thing I did. You should see mum, she's gone mad I tell you."

Charlie set the bag down. "That's lunch for you, meatloaf with something; and these are the latest Quidditch magazines I nicked from Bill."

"Where's Bill?" Ron asked flipping through a couple of magazines. He paused to watch the Keeper of Puddlemere United make a spectacular save.

Charlie plopped down on a nearby chair and stretched his legs. He looked more tanned than usual, and Ron suspected it had to do with a new breed of Dragons they discovered several months ago.

"He'll be here soon. When I got dad's owl I took a leave of absence. Bill did the same--."

Ron interrupted, "I thought you said you got time off?"

Charlie shrugged.

Ron heaved a sigh. "I didn't want this to happen, that's why I told dad in the first place."

Charlie looked at him. "I got an owl saying _'Hermione is alive'_ with just those three words. You expect me to ignore that?"

Ron smiled gratefully, sat next to his older brother and continued rifling through a magazine while Charlie inquired about Hermione. Ron answered as best as he could.

"You really have to ask Ginny," Ron said, "I'm not allowed to see her at all. Not even her parents."

"Why do they have her away from everyone?" Charlie asked, reaching for a magazine.

Ron shrugged.

"Did dad say anything else about her kidnapping?'

He shook his head. "I know Tonks went to Azkaban to interrogate Lucius Malfoy, but she didn't get anything. Dad disappeared for the night and when he got back, he just said that Hermione was indeed kidnapped but he didn't say who did it. I don't think he knows as yet, but I know he's still working on it."

Charlie nodded slowly. "I heard him tell Bill something about international Aurors helping England's Aurors."

Ron's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really?" This was news indeed.

"It's no use trying to ask him about it."

"I know, but why did he tell Bill?"

"Bill knows lots of foreign wizards through his job, so it's natural he'll go to Bill."

"You think Bill will tell me something?"

Charlie smiled sadly at the hope in Ron's voice. "Maybe; he'll be here shortly. I think he's has something to do in Diagon Alley."

Ron dropped the magazine back onto the stack and glanced around. "What's the time?"

"Almost lunch." Charlie eyed him. "You were up all night?"

"I couldn't sleep. Did you see Ginny on your way in?"

"No. What did you do if you couldn't sleep?"

"Walked around a bit. Why?"

"No reason."

"Did you see Terry? He'll know if she's here or not."

"No, I haven't seen him either."

Ron sighed. His stomach growled but he ignored it because the urge to be near Hermione suddenly overcame him. He did not know where it came from. He usually waited until after lunch to skulk outside her room because most of the Healers would have finished their rounds and that meant he would be left alone by her door. But now it nagged him like an itch at his side.

He looked at his brother who was engrossed in a magazine. Having made up his mind, Ron stood up. "Thanks for bringing me lunch," he told Charlie, who was looking curiously at him.

"Where are you going?" Charlie asked but Ron waved him away.

He appreciated Charlie's intentions but right now, he just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts and worries. _Great, now I'm channeling Harry._ Without sparing a second thought for his _friend_, Ron entered the busy corridor of St. Mungo's.

Charlie was right. Judging by all the activity around it was nearly lunch. Several Healers nodded hello to him as they passed, a few visitors glanced curiously his way but other than that, no one bothered him. The feeling to be as close as possible to Hermione rose again and Ron automatically headed to the lift. Just as he was about to cross the threshold he heard his father call out to him.

Ron spun around. Mr. Weasley walked quickly to him with an urgent look on his face. "Dad!" he said loudly and met his father half way.

"Where have you been all night?" Ron asked, "Mum said you were at a meeting with some Aurors. Any news?"

"Is Charlie here as yet?"

Ron felt a flash of annoyance. "Yeah, I left him in the Visitors' Room."

"Well come on then."

Ron narrowed his eyes and looked extremely put out, but followed his dad. Charlie leapt to his feet and dropped the Quidditch magazine on the floor. "How did the meeting go?"

_Everyone knows dad went to a meeting? No one bothered to say anything to me considering that it's MY friend and all!_

Mr. Weasley sat down. "I met with the Aurors and two of them questioned Draco Malfoy who said that Hermione was kidnapped."

_Malfoy?_ "He was in on it?" Ron asked, barely containing his temper.

"He knew about it, obviously, but he said he doesn't know who exactly gave the order, and he doesn't know who did the kidnapping."

"Did he say why?" Charlie asked thoughtfully as he glanced at Ron's red face and clenched fists.

"It was a back-up plan, so to speak, in case Harry killed Voldemort. The Aurors are still trying to find her kidnappers but they seem to be running into dead ends."

Ron said, "So, her death and the…the body that was buried…it was all a ruse to get to Harry?" His knuckles were now white.

"As horrible as it sounds, you have to admit it was a ruddy brilliant plan," Charlie said apologetically to Ron, "they must have been thinking about it for a while though. Malfoy doesn't know who gave the order or anything, so it's safe to assume that this was not Voldemort's idea."

"How'd you figure?" Ron asked bewildered.

"Think about it," replied Charlie patiently, "Voldemort thought he was so powerful that nothing, not even Harry, could beat him, so I really don't think he'd go around making plans for after his downfall. No, it would not have been him. It would have been a Death Eater.

"A high-ranking Death Eater who was just as cunning and manipulative as Voldemort himself," Mr. Weasley added.

Ron gasped. "Lucius Malfoy."

Charlie nodded. "That's one option. But he would not have been able to pull off something like that all by himself. He'd need help." He looked at his father. "Bellatrix Lestrange."

Mr. Weasley nodded and everyone grew quiet. Remus Lupin had managed to avenge Sirius by killing Bellatrix Lestrange in the Final Battle.

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Malfoy is delirious in Azkaban. If only we could get him to string a proper sentence, we might be able to find the kidnappers."

"What about the Healer who took care of Hermione and ended up dead in Knockturn Alley? Was he a Death Eater?"

"No he wasn't. At least that's what Tonks and the other Aurors are saying."

"But he was an accomplice," Charlie pressed on, "he helped by taking Hermione away to wherever."

"That much is true," Mr. Weasley said, "but we're not sure exactly who he is. He worked in St. Mungo's as a Healer but there are no records of him joining the program and he was not enlisted at Hogwarts or Beaubaxtons. I sent an owl to Durmstrang but they haven't replied as yet."

Ron, who had been listening all this time said, "Maybe he used a different name."

"Tonks is looking into that right now."

"If he did use different names, then the Aurors will be able to find out who he really is and if he was indeed a Death Eater."

Charlie said suddenly, "He didn't have the Dark Mark."

Everyone looked at him.

"I saw the photos when I went to see Tonks. There was no Dark Mark on his arm so he could not have been a Death Eater."

"But that doesn't mean he could not be a supporter of You-Know-Who," Mr. Weasley said, "it's the only way Malfoy and Lestrange would have sought him out; that is assuming they were behind the kidnapping."

Nothing was making much sense to Ron. "So, if we're assuming that Malfoy and Lestrange hired a Voldemort supporter to take Hermione at any opportunity he got, then why is he dead alongside two Muggle priests?"

Charlie slumped back into his chair. Mr. Weasley looked tired and dejected.

"Because," Ron continued, "it would make sense for him to take Hermione to them, and then leave the country before anything backfired and it all came down on him."

"The Muggle priests have everyone dumbfounded," Mr. Weasley said, "apparently they were from an elite set of priests called Cardinals. I checked with the Muggle Liaison officer who assured me that they have no clue that our world exists, and that there are no missing Cardinals. I really don't know what to think about it."

"No missing Cardinals?" Charlie exclaimed, "But the two that were found--"

"They're not wizards, that much is certain," said Mr. Weasley.

"Maybe they were impersonating the priests," Ron cautiously suggested.

"Why would they?" Charlie asked.

Ron shrugged. "This is so damn confusing," he muttered.

Mr. Weasley looked at him. "Have you seen Hermione as yet?" he asked gently.

Ron shook his head. "I was on my way to but then you showed up."

"Is she still isolated?"

He nodded.

Mr. Weasley looked thoughtful. "I don't like that."

"Neither do I but they said she might have another power attack. Dad, is there any way for me to actually **see** her? No one wants me to let me in and I really think she needs…some sort of human contact."

He was going to say that she needs me, but thought the better of it. _I'm the one who needs her badly_.

"I'll see what I can do. I have to talk to Healer Smith about a few things." He stood up. "I'll see you in a bit."

Charlie rose from his seat as well and muttered something about meeting some people as he hurried out of the room, leaving Ron alone.

Not that he minded. His head spun with everything his father said. Nothing flowed, nothing added up. The questions kept coming and building up on each other because nothing was being answered. The piece with the Muggle priests had everyone chasing their tails. They were like a piece of jigsaw puzzle that did not seem to fit anywhere no matter how hard they tried.

Part of him wanted to get to the bottom of it and find Hermione's kidnappers and make them pay dearly for all the grief they caused; part of him wanted to forget it ever happened and take Hermione into his arms forever.

With that in mind, Ron left the Visitors' Room for the second time that morning intent on seeing her. He barely made it towards the elevator again when he heard his name…again. With a low growl of frustration, he turned around to snap at whoever called him.

"Hello Ronniekins," Fred greeted grinning madly. Behind him, Bill smiled and shook his head.

Ron was taken aback when he saw his eldest brother. Charlie was one thing but Bill…he hardly got time off from work. Ron sighed. He did not want this, he did not ask for it. Of course he was happy to see his older brothers showing their support to him and his friend but, there was nothing either of them could do about the situation. The last thing he wanted was to cause any major drawbacks in their hectic lives. But he knew one thing for certain: his mother was behind it.

Before Ron could say anything, Bill said, "We're looking for dad, don't worry. And I got time off from work."

"Yeah Ron," Fred added seriously, "the world stopped revolving around you last Tuesday."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"How's your girlfriend?" Fred asked.

"What? She's not my girlfriend!" he exclaimed, his voice suddenly high-pitched.

"Oh okay, so the both of you are snogging partners then?"

Ron groaned miserably. "It's nothing like that," he said weakly but the damage was done. Fred knew and that meant George as well. Now Bill's eyes were twinkling mischievously.

"How'd you--?"

"Tonks," they both replied. Ron groaned again.

"It's okay Ron. It was bound to happen sometime," Bill assured him.

Fred said, "But really, how is Hermione?"

"Nothing's changed. I'm going to see her now," he replied gesturing to the lift.

Bill nodded. "Any idea where dad is?"

The corridor was relatively quiet when Ron walked to Hermione's room. It lacked the bustle of activity of the ground floor but Ron found it to be a welcome relief. When he rounded a corner, he looked up at stopped in his tracks.

_Where are the two Aurors that are supposed to be guarding her door?_

Panicking slightly, Ron walked quickly to her room, praying that everything was all right.

The door was unlocked.

His heart hammered in his chest. With a trembling hand he pushed the door open.

Ron instantly panicked. He ran into the empty room shouting her name, looking in every corner and under the bed for her, for any sign of her.

_Ohgodohgodohgod!_

_Where is she?_

He stood wide-eyed in the middle of the room, breathing heavily. His pale face contrasted highly with his blue eyes as they roamed everywhere. Dread filled him.

_Did the Healers mover her? Why didn't they say anything? What if…oh god…what if someone got to her again? _

Ron tore out of the room towards the lift. "Open up dammit!" he snarled and slapped the doors hard. With one last kick of impatience, he darted to the stairs and raced down to the ground floor. He never paused to catch his breath. The image of Hermione held against her will, possibly being tortured and bruised, spurred him to run faster down three flights of stairs.

The door magically burst open as he hurried through it and onto the ground floor again. He grabbed the nearest Healer. "Where's Ginny Weasley?"

The girl looked surprised and half-scared. "Um, I-I don't know. I think she's on the top floor, the last I heard."

"Fuck!" he swore and raced up four flights of stairs. _Ginny's probably there with Hermione._ His lungs ached and his legs burned as he took three stairs at a time. He ignored the discomfort. Sweat trickled down his back as he panted with exhaustion.

At the sight of the blue doors marked _Fourth Level_, Ron's heart lurched as he pulled the doors open and stepped inside. Even through his worry, he noticed that this floor was different from the rest of the building. The ground was plush carpet, not faded white tiles, and the walls were padded.

_Ginny, Ginny_, _where the hell are you?_

He rounded a corner. _Thank you god!_

There she was talking to that Damien person and writing on parchments.

He stopped at her side just as she faced him. "Ginny! Hermione's gone! Her room is empty. Where is she?"

She stared at him for a second before saying, "Sit down Ron. Did you run all the way up here?"

"Is she gone? Is she safe? What's going on?"

"I moved her this morning. Will you please calm down? She's fine."

Relief flooded him. He sucked in mouthfuls of air while his heart rate began returning to normal.

Ginny continued. "Healer Smith is starting the Treatment for her today and she needed to be moved to the Observation Room. Nothing happened when the medi-witches moved her. She was very calm."

"Did she say anything?" Ron asked wiping the sweat from his neck.

She shook her head.

Damien spoke. "She's lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. I helped her move her. If it wasn't for her breathing, I'd think she was…" He noticed Ron's expression because he said, "Look I'm sure she'll be back to normal as soon as she's treated."

Ron swallowed thickly. Ginny smiled and said, "Thank you Damien." Taking that as his cue, he left the brother and sister alone.

"How long will this thing take?" Ron asked, gesturing to the room behind him.

"I don't know for sure. It depends on Hermione."

He nodded. "It's the best thing for her, right?"

Before Ginny could respond, the elevator's doors opened and a dozen footsteps and voices drew their attention. Ron saw a group of young Healers led by Healer Smith, making their way towards them. He glanced at Ginny and saw that she was just as confused as he was.

Behind the group were Bill, Charlie and Fred, all wearing serious expressions on their faces. Something was obviously wrong.

Healer Smith stood next to Ginny. "I take it everything's ready, Weasley. Looks like you finally came through."

Ron did not appreciate his tone towards his sister.

Healer Smith turned to address the crowd. "We are about to begin the Memory Treatment on Patient A. I suggest you take seats upstairs where you will be able to see through the glass exactly what's going on. Record all observations and your conclusions on the behavior each potion induces on the patient."

Ron suddenly understood. He was using Hermione to teach the new Healers.

"What? You can't be serious?" Ron exclaimed. Healer Smith ignored him and issued orders to the others around them. Ginny stepped forward and said, "You're not allowed to do this. She's a patient, not an experiment."

"She's under my care, Miss Weasley," Smith said, "I can do whatever I please."

Ron saw red._ You fucking bastard._ Before he could lunge at Smith, Charlie and Fred grabbed his shoulders and pulled him aside. The Trainee Healers gasped; a girl nearly screamed. Everyone stared at them. Bill and Ginny argued with Smith but the bastard looked smug about everything. He would not let them to do that to Hermione. Never.

"Get off me dammit!" he shouted.

Charlie tightened his grip and tried to reason with him. Fred swore when Ron tried to elbow him.

He wrestled against his brothers, determined to choke the life out of Smith. _I don't need my wand; I'll use my bare hands on the fucker._ The idea of his love being used as a rat in an experimental treatment was enough to drive him raging mad. And when Ron Weasley got mad, he did not think, he reacted. Simple as that, no complex Arithmancy involved. Just utmost fury and his fist.

Bill was saying, "You don't have her parents' permission to do this."

"Yes I do," Smith replied triumphantly, "thanks to Miss Weasley--" Ginny visibly blanched, "--who got her parents to sign the parchments, I can."

His words seemed to reverberate in Ron's mind. He stopped struggling and turned a heavy head to his baby sister who looked horrified. Time slowed as their eyes met and Ron saw her guilt and tears. His heart constricted and his stomach suddenly felt empty. She was shaking her head and mouthing the words 'I didn't know' and 'I'm sorry', but all he could do was look at her.

Being betrayed by his best friend was one thing, but by his own flesh and blood, by his own sister, his baby sister, the one who he loved more than all his siblings, the little brown-eyed girl who held his hand and asked him for cookies and came to him when she had nightmares because he was her hero…

Tears blurred his vision but he blinked them rapidly away. Ginny tried to touch him but he brushed her off. His skin burned at her touch. He found that he could not look at her anymore. Betrayal and anger, not a very good combination.

Bill held something in his hands and seemed to be reading it thoroughly. Ginny tried apologizing again. He did not want to hear her so he focused on Bill who had his wand out and waved it around the parchments several times.

"What's he doing?" someone in the crowd whispered.

Fred suddenly grinned. "He's checking the sheets for hidden lines and invisible ink." Fred chuckled. "Bloody curse-breaker."

Bill held the sheets up to the Healer's nose and said forcefully, "They signed agreeing to the treatment. There's nothing about it being experimental which means that you have NO RIGHT to even use the potion treatment, and you have no authority to have these Trainees here looking on. Now, you either clear the area or rest assured _the Daily Prophet_ will hear about this."

Smith sneered. "I thought you were going to your father?"

Bill gave him an equally nasty smile. "No, he'll read about it in _the Prophet_. Then there'll be hell to pay."

Smith swore loudly and waved his hand. People began shuffling away from the scene. He turned to leave.

As soon as Ron felt Charlie and Fred loosen their grip, he sprinted after Smith. This time another figure blocked his path and almost sent him flying to the ground. He almost thought it was Bill but when he regained his footstep, he found himself staring into the cold gray eyes of Trainee Healer Damien. Ron was momentarily startled because he never saw Damien without a smile on his face. Now he looked fierce.

"Don't," he warned Ron in a low voice.

Ron scowled. "Don't tell me what to do. Move!"

Damien repeated his warning.

"I'm not letting him get off that easily."

Damien nodded to Bill and Charlie who stood at either side of Ron and said to them, "Get him out of here before he does something we all regret." Then he addressed Ron, "Don't worry, he'll get what's coming to him."

"Yeah?" Ron said heatedly, "Well I want to be the one to deliver it."

Damien shook his head and muttered something under his breath before turning away. Ron tried going after Smith again but Bill held him back. "Let him be."


	9. The Necromancer

_Chapter 8: The Necromancer_

Ron paced in front of the Observation Room for almost two hours. He grumbled when his mother told him to sit down, he gave the Healers that came out of the room cold looks, and occasionally he snapped at everyone around him. _Two hours. What on earth takes two hours?_

Charlie had gone back to the Burrow to fetch dinner for the lot of them, but instead of Charlie coming back, his mother appeared, much to Ron's dismay. He loved his mother, but he could not handle her fussing, especially at a time like this. He was determined to be in a bad mood all night long and if his mother showed up, she was bound to nag him constantly and he did not want to vent on her. He wanted to take out his aggression on Healer Smith but the wanker was nowhere to be seen.

So under his mother's stern eye, he ate as much as his stomach allowed, and went back to pacing. Bill sat with Mrs. Weasley, acting as a mediator between the two when the arguments got out of hand.

_What the hell is taking so long?_

"How long does it take to give someone a couple of potions?" Ron asked a wall.

"It's a lot of potions, Ron," Bill said easily, reading one of Ron's Quidditch magazines, "and they have to make sure Hermione doesn't have any unnatural reactions to them."

Ron scowled at the wall and kicked it in frustration. Mrs. Weasley shot him a warning glare but otherwise kept her mouth shut. She recognized Ron's agitation as a sign of worry for Hermione and she knew he was itching to bite someone's head off. As a mother she would have gladly let him vent on her but decided against it. Once Ron started, she didn't think she could stop him. So she let him pace the corridors and glare at innocent bystanders.

Bill said, "Is there any way of asking you to sit down?"

"No," said Ron.

Bill sighed. "I know you're worried but you can't do anything, it's completely out of your hands. Acting like a prat isn't going to help."

"Shut it, Bill."

This time their mother intervened. "Watch your mouth Ronald."

_What the fuck is this? I don't need this shit right now._ Without a word to his mother or brother, Ron walked away down the corridor, past the Aurors and into the lift._ Leave me alone. I just want to be alone right now._

He ignored the Healers in the lift with him. _How much longer will they be? What if something happened to her, what if one of the potions backfired? Ginny would have said for sure; besides her parents are still in there._

The doors of the lift opened and everyone stepped out. Ron looked around and saw that he was on the ground floor. It was unusually crowded. He glanced at the enormous grandfather clock and realized that visiting hours had begun. Suddenly, he felt claustrophobic. Ron edged his way through the crowd. A wizard with a pair of wings, flapping uncontrollably, almost poked his eye out. He ducked under the massive wings and came face to face with an eight year old witch who had whiskers on her face.

He had to get out of the madness. The room spun slightly as he pushed his way through several teenage wizards, all of whom were holding their crotches. Ron shook his head. _I don't want to know._

At last he found the exit and gratefully pushed the doors open. He stepped out into the weak sunshine and shivered from the cold wind. Ron inhaled the fresh air deeply, stretching out his lungs to its maximum, and exhaled slowly.

He wanted to curse the fates for making her worse. One minute he wanted to thank them for bringing her back, the next minute he wanted to hex them into next week. She was doing fine at first. In fact she was completely normal at his flat; it was only when he brought her to this damned place, she got worse. He did not want to in the first place. He did not want to bring her back to the very place she… died… was taken.

Ron shook his head. _She was happy with me. Just the two of us, safe and happy. I should have never called Ginny. _But he knew he could not hide her forever, no matter how hard he tried.

He closed his eyes as her face floated in his mind. She looked so beautiful in the dream, even though she was seven months pregnant and cramming her mouth with ice-cream.

Ron smiled. Her hair was a mess and there were ice-cream on the tips but he did not care.

The image changed to Hermione's flushed face and swollen lips. Ron stifled a groan when he remembered her whimpering sounds as they kissed on his table. He could feel her fingers pressing into his back, her tongue swirling in his mouth and the pressure of her chest against his.

He could never get enough of her. From her ice cream hair to her plump lips… he wanted all of her. Life without her was dark and empty and full of misery. He did not want to live like that anymore, feeling lost and unsure of what to do or where to go. He hated that feeling. He wanted her so much it hurt and was willing to do anything to keep her.

A sudden thought struck him: Her parents might not want Hermione to be part of the Wizarding world anymore. His knees trembled slightly. _They can't force her to stay away, she's of age. She's legal; they can't tell her what to do. But what if she wants to stay away? What if she had enough of fighting and decided that being a Muggle would be safer?_

_Hermione won't think like that, she won't run from anything she believes in. she's a bloody Gryffindor! She knows I love her, and she loves me. We'll be together; I'll never let her out of my sight for the rest of my life. That way I'll protect her and keep her safe. She would never have to worry about Death Eaters, or curses or anything evil ever again. I'll make sure she's happy._

But deep down he knew no matter how much he loved her or she loved him, her parents could be a problem to their future. He did not want to give her parents any reason to dislike him and he knew that if Hermione decided to stay in the Wizarding world against her parents' wishes, she would not be truly happy. She could not stand any rift with her parents the same way he could not with his.

He considered talking to them about it, but that would also mean admitting his love for their daughter. Mr. Granger might kill him. Ron sighed. _It's no use worrying about that now. There're more important things to worry over, like getting Hermione out of this damn place._

_24 hours later…_

Ron was startled out of sleep by an explosion from the floor above that rattled the chairs and coffee tables around him. Dust from the ceiling landed softly on his shoulder.

He knew exactly what the sound meant. He threw the blankets on the floor and forced his brain into overdrive. _Wake up, you need to wake up!_

He quickly splashed cold water on his stubbled face and raced to follow the handful of Healers heading to the source of the noise. Ron took three steps at a time as his long legs allowed him to easily outrun the others and soon found himself barging through the blue double doors clearly marked, 'Observation Room'. He rounded a corner, narrowly missing a few medi-witches and visitors and stopped when he came face to face with Tonks.

"What is it?" Ron asked hurriedly. Tonks pulled him into the corridor and shielded the entrance as soon as the crowd emerged. Another Auror stood to hold off the small group of Healers.

"It's another power trip!" Tonks shouted as another explosion threatened to knock them over. "Ginny and Terry are in there now trying to calm her down, but it looks like she's in some sort of trance-like state. That's what Ginny said anyway."

Ron nodded and put up a brave face even though his heart was hammering. They stopped outside Hermione's room where he could hear Ginny pleading with Hermione to wake up. Even from outside he could feel the power radiating off her.

_What the hell are those potions doing to her?_

The entrance to the Observation Room sealed it self shut after Ginny and Terry, as a fail-safe mechanism. Ron saw Moody and a young Auror trying to blast the doors open with their wands.

"What's the damn password?" Moody shouted at Tonks.

"I don't know!" she yelled, her voice muffled by a loud, echoing bang from inside the room. "Smith knows. Bill went to find him!"

Ron became agitated. Ginny trapped inside… Hermione not in her right frame of mind… If Terry saw Hermione as a threat to Ginny… Merlin! He had to get inside there fast.

"What about Johnson?" Ron asked Tonks. She shook her purple head and tugged at her robes. She looked as anxious as Ron felt.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_ Ron didn't know what to do. Whose idea was it to have the door seal shut in the first place? A door made of freaking steel to boot! Wait, didn't steel melt? At very high temperatures steel melted, but could he produce that much heat with his wand? _Not bloody likely_.

_There's got to be a way in. Come on; think you stupid, worthless idiot! THINK! Hermione is on the other side of that door and I'm here. I have to get to her now. _

Ron heard panting and looked up to see a red-faced Bill with Charlie behind him, shaking his head at Tonks and saying, "Smith isn't in his office, and he isn't answering when I called from the Floo Network."

"Shit!" Tonks snarled. She grabbed Bill's arm and pointed at the door. "Get rid of that thing now! There's got to be someway to override the password. Use your curse-breaking skills and do it!"

"Where's Ginny?" Charlie asked holding his wand. Tonks pointed at the door and Charlie swore loudly.

"What the hell was she thinking?" he yelled, joining Bill at the door. Yellow light shot out of Bill's wand onto the middle of the door forming a large dot. It remained like that for a few seconds until it grew and became a transparent yellow, covering the entire door. He then shouted the Reductor's Curse but to his horror, the spell shattered his previous one, causing an ear-splitting explosion that threw everyone on the floor.

Bill's eyes widened. "That's not supposed to happen! What kind of door is this? Everyone all right? Tonks, are you hurt?"

"I'll live," she groaned massaging her head. Charlie helped Ron to his feet, while Bill stared at the door and began muttering to himself. Moody barked at the other Aurors to continue working on the door. Tonks picked herself up and Ron saw a bit of blood on her wrist.

Ron stared at everyone around him, his mind still trying to get to Hermione.

"Can Ginny hear us?" Charlie asked, obviously worried about his sister.

"Maybe," Tonks replied, wiping the blood on her robes quickly before Bill noticed, "but I don't think you should call out, it might distract her."

"I think you made the door stronger, Weasley," Moody growled at Bill who shook his head.

"I don't know what happened! The spell is supposed to expand the Reductor's Curse by completely dissolving the door. It works on everything because I've used it countless times before."

Hermione. Steel door. He couldn't go through, so how about going around? He looked around him again and his hopes dashed. There was no going around, unless they decided to blast through the wall from the other room. Then again, it might not hurt to try.

"Bill! The other room! The wall in the other room!"

At first, Bill looked at him as though he was speaking a different language, then his eyes widened and he grabbed Tonks and hauled her into the adjoining room. The explosions were sounding louder. At one point, he thought he heard Ginny scream.

With that in mind, he frantically followed Bill and Tonks into the room. It was the same as the other private rooms in St. Mungo's but his attention was drawn to his eldest brother and the young Auror. Tonks seemed to be testing specific areas on the wall with her wand while Bill tried disintegrating the wall with a powerful curse. Nothing happened. A muscle in Bill's jaw twitched as he repeated the spell. Nothing.

"Bill," Tonks pointed to a spot on the wall, "this area is the thinnest. Focus the spell right there."

But before Bill could, an earth-shattering explosion from the Observation Room shook St. Mungo's to the core. A clap of thunder boomed, followed by a series of explosions so loud that everyone clutched their ears in pain. The floor rolled and convulsed sending everyone to the ground once more. Ron saw Bill make futile attempts to stay on his feet. Tonks was shouting something at him but it was no use.

The lights flickered once and suddenly the room was plunged in darkness. Forked lightning flashed, illuminating the room for a half-second. A deep crack appeared on the wall and ran up the ceiling. Ron heard explosions, crashing and more screaming. There was another flash of lightning and then, everything stopped.

Ron opened his eyes and lowered his hands slowly. There was an odd ringing in his ears. He waited until his heart returned to its normal pace and stood up gingerly. "_Lumos,"_ he said and the narrow beam of light from his wand showed Tonks lying on the floor. A huge chunk of the wall had fallen on her leg which was twisted at an odd angle. Her face was pale and dusty and she looked as though she was fighting back tears.

"Jesus Tonks," Ron breathed as he knelt besides her.

"I was about to say the same," she wheezed slightly.

"_Wingardium leviosa._"

The piece of wall floated easily off her leg. She grimaced once but her face visibly relaxed after. Ron pointed the light to the sound of the voice. Bill held the wall with his wand for a few seconds and then dropped it unceremoniously to the side.

"Are you all right?" he asked Ron, who nodded.

"Hold on Tonks," he said gently as a dozen jumbled footsteps pushed through the door. Moody and Charlie rushed into the room. Charlie hauled Ron to his feet. Moody was at Tonks' side in an instant.

"The lights are out everywhere," one of the Aurors was saying, "The Healers are trying to get them back on but it'll be a while."

Bill said, "She needs a Healer now. I'm shit with Healing Charms. Someone find a Healer."

"I'm fine, Bill," Tonks said grimly, "Moody didn't do a bad job of holding my leg."

"You'll be fine when a Healer has looked you over."

Ron tore his gaze away from the pair and focused on the wall that had broken off. Aside from the voices in the room, everything else was relatively quiet. That irked him for some reason. He stepped over a fallen chair. The opening was about five inches wide and a foot long. His breath hitched. The Observation Room.

He could not see anything; the lights had gone out in that room as well. Slowly, he pushed his wand through the opening. The side of his hand grazed against the wall but he forced it through as much as possible.

Charlie came up behind him. "Do you see anything?"

Ron shook his head. "Not yet." He saw the entrance to the room and bits of wreckage on the floor next to the door but there was no sign of movement.

"Try moving your wand more to the right," Charlie ordered. Ron obeyed but found it difficult. The wall began cutting into his wrists. "A bit lower."

Ron gritted his teeth. He felt the skin give way and a drop of blood trickled down his arm. "Bend your wrist down, I think I see something over there."

Pain and discomfort forgotten, Ron forced his hand down. The beam of light fell across a petite figure lying on the floor, face turned away from them but her red hair was obvious even in the dim light.

"GINNY!"

She did not stir.

Ron pulled his hand out. Alerted by their panicked cries, the Aurors crowded around them. Charlie pulled Ron out of the way just as Moody raised his wand and blasted the rest of the wall away. Clouds of dust rose and obscured their view but Ron pushed his way blindly through, desperate to get to his sister. In that instant, he did not care that she deceived him or Hermione. He was willing to give his life in exchange for hers.

He coughed and stumbled and squinted through the flecks that danced like fireflies in their wand lights. When he reached Ginny, he turned her over and saw, to his relief that she was simply knocked out. There were a few bruises across her arms but nothing serious. He heard Charlie exhale slowly.

"Get her out of here," Moody said. Charlie picked her up carefully and left. Ron looked around and saw a few Aurors crouched over another body.

_Hermione?_

No, it was Terry.

Ron swallowed nervously. _Where is she?_ He turned the light to all four corners of the room. Nothing. He heard his heart pounding in his ears. Shattered potion bottles and vials lay at his feet, their contents forming rivulets and puddles. He moved over them as he made his way closer to the bed. His shoes crunched on glass. Ron trained the light at arms length away as he focused on the bed. His heart skipped a beat. There was something on the bed. He started towards it but paused.

_Tell someone, call for Moody or an Auror. Do approach the bed by yourself._

_What if it's Hermione?_

_What if it isn't?_

_She could be hurt._

_She could still be in her trance._

While his rational side continued arguing with his mind, his legs seemed to have a mind of its own. As quiet as possible, Ron approached the bed. His breath came out in short gasps. His wand hand shook slightly as though fearing the worst.

The blankets on the bed were ripped and the pillows were scattered all over. Nothing was at the head of the bed. In fact he could not see anything past the middle of the bed because it was total blackness. The hair at the back of Ron's neck stood on edge. He edged closer. The light from his wand could not pierce the darkness. A chill slid down his spine causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. The darkness seemed to absorb light.

Something was very, very wrong.

"Ron!"

He almost jumped out of his skin. "Bloody hell, Bill," he said angrily.

"Sorry," Bill said as he walked over. "I saw Charlie with Ginny so I came to see if you found Hermione okay."

Ron shook his head. "I'm not seeing her."

Bill noticed the eerie blackness. "What's going on?

"I don't know."

Bill stared at it, as though trying to figure it out. Ron watched as his eldest brother stepped closer and closer until his nose was inches away from the wall of darkness. Bill held his wand light at the side of his face, throwing huge shadows against the wall.

"It's magic," he said softly, "a veil or something, I'm not sure. There's something behind it though. It's hiding something."

_Or someone._

Ron swallowed thickly. "Hermione?"

Bill frowned. "Not unless she can do Dark Magic."

Just as he was about to push his wand through the wall, a loud feminine voice shouted, "DON'T!"

Startled, the two Weasley boys whirled around to see their father rushing into the room followed by a young woman. Her black hair was pulled back and she held her wand at the ready as she moved purposefully towards them.

"Are you stupid?" she said to Bill.

Ron frowned at her accent. _American?_

Bill looked taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"You don't go sticking your wand into everything you see, what's the matter with you? Are you really that dense? You could have died!"

She grabbed their arms and pulled them away. Suddenly the torches in the room flared and the entire room was illuminated once again. Now, the dark wall was more noticeable since it shimmered slightly in the light. The Aurors in the room nudged each other and pointed at the wall.

"Did you find Hermione?" Mr. Weasley asked worriedly.

"She's not here," Ron's voice quivered slightly. Unlike his brother he did not care that this girl was dragging him to the middle of the room because he was officially sick with worry over Hermione.

"Bloody hell woman, keep your knickers on!" Bill exclaimed, "just where do you get off?'

The girl stopped and stared at him. "Do all of you talk like that?"

Everyone seemed to be ignoring Ron.

Mr. Weasley stepped in. "This is Sarah. She's an American Auror who offered her help when she heard about Hermione."

_Someone please help me look for her!_

"American, huh?" Bill scowled, "that explains your wonderful manners."

"Excuse me; I just saved your life!"

"CAN SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME FIND HERMIONE?"

Everyone stopped and stared at him. The girl, Sarah, sighed and pointed over her shoulder. "She's behind there. You can't get to her unless the wall falls, otherwise the Necromancer will kill her."

Kill her… the Necromancer will kill her… kill her… kill Hermione… Something will kill Hermione. _Oh sweet Merlin help me!_

Ron almost fell to his knees in shock and despair. He did not notice Bill's pale face.

"What do we do, Sarah?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"Wait until it releases her."

Ron felt as though all his life was sucked out of him. _Wait?_

"Wait?" he said loudly, "I'm not waiting for whatever that is to kill her. We have to get her now!"

"And just how do you suggest we do that?" Sarah asked.

Ron glared her and she glared right back. "Hex it; get the wall down by throwing curses at it. Shit, I'll run into it myself if I have to." And with that he picked himself up and looked at the wall.

"God, you're just as reckless as him," she groaned pointing at Bill, "Do you know what a Necromancer is?"

"I don't give a fuck what they are! I want Hermione safe, right now; do you understand that?"

"And do you understand that if you do anything stupid, you'll get her killed, get yourself killed and probably everyone else in the damn room! Necromancers are evil creatures, okay? They practice Dark Magic only and will kill you without a second thought. Get that through your thick skull! They are evil-minded beings!"

"Many call us evil just because we choose to delve into arts and practices that they find repulsive."

Everyone froze. The words hung heavy in the air. Ron turned toward the sound of the heavy, deep voice and almost fainted. The man, or creature, could not have been less than seven feet tall. It wore dark purple robes, a necklace of silver skulls and held a heavy staff in his hand. Its skin was almost grey and wrinkled.

In a flurry of movements, wands were raised and positions were taken up by Aurors. The Necromancer watched all this in mild amusement, knowing fully well no man-made spell could harm him.

Ron could not remember when last he was this scared. Facing Voldemort came in pretty close but even then he had his best friend at his side. The one who was destined to kill Voldemort, so deep down he knew he had a very small chance of surviving.

Bill pushed him back, while his father pushed them both behind him.

"Who the hell are you?" Moody demanded.

The Necromancer took a step forward. Everyone took an equivalent step back. In a completely different situation, Ron thought, it would have been highly comical. As it stepped into the light, Ron choked down a whimper. Floating at its side was an unconscious Hermione.

Anger pushed away fear. Without thinking, Ron stepped aside from his brother and father. "What did you do to her?"

The Necromancer paused and focused its intense gaze on him. The very air seemed tainted with its evil.

_Shit! _Ron wanted to collapse from fright as his legs trembled. _Don't flinch, don't blink! Don't be scared, don't be scared, don't be scared…_

Suddenly Sarah darted in front of Ron and bowed low to the Necromancer. "Forgive his insolence. He is concerned about the life next to you."

"I see his anxiety," the Necromancer replied still staring at Ron, "foolish mortals. Always a slave to your emotions; and emotions will always destroy you." Its eyes strayed to the Aurors who waited patiently for it to make a wrong move.

Hermione floated down to the bed. Ron resisted the urge to run to her side. Sarah kept her eyes to the ground. "As you wish. Will you be leaving now?"

Moody growled. "He isn't going anywhere."

Sarah flashed him a warning look which he ignored. Mr. Weasley said carefully to Moody, "He can leave whenever he wants. No one will stop him."

The Necromancer gazed at the Aurors who looked nervously at each other. He raised a long, gnarled finger and pointed it at the one closest to him. Immediately, dark tendrils of magic shot out of his finger to the Auror's head. Moody and the others gasped. The Auror opened his mouth in a silent scream until the Necromancer closed his hand.

Everyone watched with bated breath as the Auror staggered slightly then straightened up slowly. He faced Moody and stared at him with unblinking eyes and a blank face. Ron saw Moody's wand hand tighten and his magical eye fixed on the Auror.

Ron's heart hammered in his chest. The other Aurors aimed their wands at their comrade. He feared the worst.

Sarah said, "This isn't necessary."

"What's not necessary?" Moody said; his eyes still on the seemingly possessed Auror.

"Let him go. He will not hurt anyone if you do," Sarah pleaded.

"Do not stop them," the Necromancer said hungrily, "I have not been in a battle for centuries."

"What is it?" asked Moody. The Auror in front of him raised his wand and pressed it against Moody's throat.

The tension in the room tripled.

Moody clenched his jaw and stared unblinking, not at the Auror who wanted to kill him, but at the Necromancer who had a tiny smirk on his face. So tiny that Ron thought he imagined it.

"How will you like to die?" the possessed Auror asked Moody, "I am very gifted with Death. I can make it painless so that you can smile sweetly as you expel your last breath, or I can make the pain so intense that you will want to kill yourself before I have the pleasure of doing so."

Ron's breath hitched. He could not believe this was happening; that Moody was being mentally tortured before he died. _What kind of sick freak is this? Who the hell will think of… this can't be happening!_

He glanced at his brother and father and saw that they were just as disturbed as he was. The other Aurors did not let their guard down; even the girl was strangely calm. _They must have seen stuff like this because of their work._

"How about a Cutting Spell to the throat?" His voice came out in a raspy whisper. The wand moved slowly across Moody's damp, pale neck. "How long will you survive? Thirty seconds… sixty… Will your eyes widen in surprise and try to stop the dark blood from gushing out, or will you just accept the inevitable and let yourself bleed to death?"

Ron was so scared. His legs felt like jelly as fear gripped him even more. He just wanted to grab Hermione and run. To hell with everyone else. _What if that thing kills all of us like that? Oh god, what did it do to Hermione?_

"Stop it! Please!" Sarah cried out.

The possessed Auror rounded on her. "Do not interfere, witch!"

The something happened so quickly that it took Ron's brain a good few seconds to register. When the possessed Auror shifted his attention to Sarah for one second, the Auror closest to Moody lifted his wand, but before he could aim, a streak of red light shot through his chest and he slumped to the ground.

It happened so fast that Ron barely had time to blink. Bill stared at the dead Auror in horror and amazement. Then, all hell broke loose.

Spell after spell began throwing from one end of the room to the other. Flashes of colors lit up the room like a disco. Bill pulled Ron to the floor just a spell narrowedly missed them. They heard shouts from the other Aurors. Dust raised again preventing Ron from seeing anything.

Mr. Weasley shouted to Bill, "Get Ron out of here!"

Bill nodded but Ron protested, "Hermione is out in the open! We can't leave her here!"

Mr. Weasley squinted through his glasses. Figures moved quickly across the room, ducking, crawling and rolling on the ground. He heard Sarah's voice over the noise.

Ron made up his mind. "I'm going to get her!"

Bill pulled him back down. "Do you have a fucking death wish? You'll be caught in the cross-fire!"

Ron shook his head. "Not if I stay close to the sides. I'm going to get Hermione. I can't lose her again."

"Stubborn prat," Bill muttered. "Go on, I'll cover you."

But as soon as they were ready, the fighting stopped. Ron coughed up dust as he got to his feet. Low moans of pain and short breaths punctuated the sudden stillness. When the dust cleared a bit, Ron saw all the Aurors lying on the ground, a few motionless. Splashes of bright red blood were on the walls and the floor. The Necromancer was gone.

"Come on," Mr. Weasley said softly. Bill and Ron followed their father to the nearest fallen Auror. "Bill, call for the Healers," he said grimly.

A wave of nausea threatened Ron as he stared at the stomach contents of a dead Auror.

"Oh god," he moaned. His mouth felt dry and heavy. He tore his eyes away and searched for Hermione. Ron spotted her lying on the bed. In two seconds, he was at her side.

"Hermione," he called softly. Her eyelids fluttered. "Hermione?"

He felt her muscles tense. His heart soared. _She's waking up!_

Ron whispered her name again and this time she opened her eyes. He raised a shaking hand to brush a strand of hair from her face. She stared blankly at him for a moment until she said his name. It was pure sweetness to his ears.

A bubble of emotion burst inside him. He hugged her tightly and buried his face in her hair so she would not see his tears. _She's okay, she's okay. She'll be fine._ His shoulders shook as tears threatened to spill fiercely but he held back for her sake.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him. He felt her tears on his neck. "Ron," she whispered rubbing his back, "it's okay. Everything is fine. I'm not hurt, I'm fine."

He was disgusted with himself. His friend, his love needed him the most right now and all he could do was cry like a worthless kid. _Get a grip on yourself fool! Hermione needs you to be strong._

Ron wiped his tears and pulled back to look at her. Her eyes shone in the light as she gazed at him with a small smile on her lips. They did not hear the Healers running around in the room checking each Auror. They did not notice Moody being carried away nor did they see the American Auror, Sarah, limping around to assist Bill.

They only saw each other. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. She hugged him again.

"What happened?" asked Hermione as she looked around the room.

"Long story," he replied. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Hermione frowned and said, "You. I remember you telling me something and then I passed out. That's it."

Ron smiled. "Well I'll fill you in on the rest."

A few seconds of silence passed between them until… "What happens now?"

"Now we get you out of this damn place."

Before Hermione responded, a slight commotion diverted their attention. Ron saw Tonks talking urgently to his father, Bill and Sarah. Mr. Weasley paled slightly and then left with Sarah and Tonks. Bill came forward to get them.

Bill smiled. "You look gorgeous Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes and took Bills hands. "I'm going to put you somewhere else so a Healer can look you over. You okay Ron?"

Ron nodded but his mind was on his father. "Where did dad go?"

He saw Bill hesitate and glance at Hermione. "Let's get her outside first."

As soon as Hermione got settled right within Ron's sight, he turned to Bill. "Well?"

"The Head Healer, Smith, was found dead in his home a few minutes ago."

Ron's jaw dropped in astonishment. "What?"

Bill continued, "It gets better. He was burned exactly the same way as the Muggle priests."

_A/N: I got the information on Necromancers from the Internet. I was researching Dark Creatures and came across them and figured they'd be perfect. The line: _"Many call us evil just because we choose to delve into arts and practices that they find repulsive." _is taken from the website:http/ancient. It was too good to pass up!_

_Thanks again for reading and reviewing!_


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